The Heart of Men
by Nili
Summary: While wintering in Mirkwood, Aragorn and Legolas visit Laketown. Soon they find themselves thrown head first into chaos, suspicion and greed which threaten both their lives and the peace the new King of Dale has managed to uphold.
1. Best Laid Plans

**A/N:  
  
Hi folks!  
  
Well, here we go, story number two is all ready (well, a few chapters are, after all *g*) and waiting to be read by you! And it's even on time, isn't that great? I still think it's a miracle of biblical proportions, but I think only people who are from this country can truly understand what a really exceptional occurence it is to get internet access on the day they told you you would get it... *g*  
  
Very well, here is my second story, which is a sequel to "An Eye For An Eye" and will probably be easier to understand if you've read that story, but it's not necessary I think. You should be fine either way.  
  
I really do hope you'll enjoy it!   
Oh, and thanks a lot for all the lovely reviews for ch 22 of "An Eye For An Eye", they were one of the reasons why I tried to get this out as soon as possible! Thanks so much! *huggles readers*  
  
Okay, enough of the ranting and on to the story!!  
  
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The Heart of Men**  
  
  
  
  
**By: **Nili  
  
  
  
**Rating: **PG-13 to be on the safe side, I think.  
  
  
  
**Spoilers: **Hmmm, good question. This is a sequel to my first story, "An Eye For An Eye". It might be easier to understand if you've read it, but I don't think it's really necessary. There might also be a few spoilers for "The Hobbit", so if you're reading that book at the moment and are still wondering whether the dwarves or the dragon will survive, then don't read this.  
  
  
  
**Disclaimer: ** I do not own anything in Middle-Earth, every recognizable character, setting, place and so on belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, but the rest (places, characters, spiders, demon-horses etc.) belong to me. I do not have permission to use any of the above, but I do so anyway. Evil, hm? Oh, and yes, this little story was written just for fun, and I _certainly_ will receive no money for it, though it would be a great way to earn my living. Please do not use any of my original characters without asking me first (ha, as if that's going to happen...). Thanks a lot.  
  
  
  
**Summary: **After his encounter with Cornallar and his men, Aragorn winters in Mirkwood with his friend Legolas. When a simple visit to Lake-town stirs up more trouble than either of them could have imagined, the elven prince and the young ranger find themselves thrown head first into a maelstrom of suspicion, disappearances and greed that threatens both their lives and the precarious peace the new King of Dale has managed to uphold.  
  
  
  
**Series: **Well, that's a grand word, but perhaps I'll start a mini-series of my own! *g* As I said, this is a sequel to **"An Eye For An Eye"**, taking place about three weeks after said story.  
  
  


** Additional notes: ** I have decided to follow Cassia and Sio's lead and pretend that Gilraen was killed with Arathorn, not because I don't like her, no, but because it's very hard to integrate her into Rivendell-life. Well, too complicated for me, and since I'm still new to this author business this is the easiest solution. 

Some people have told me that my whole concept is an **AU**, and I think they are correct, in a way. I totally ignore the fact that Aragorn's supposed to have met Arwen just after he had been told of his heritage, and I am aware of the fact that I am not Tolkien, and therefore do not even begin to sound like him. I could never write as well as he does, so well, you will have to bear with me.  


Please also note that I have chosen to use "mellonamin" and not "mellon-nîn" or "nin mellon", it's just because the dictionary I use does it that way and I still haven't found a better one. If you know one, please send me an email and let me know.   
So, if this bothers you, just read "nin mellon" or "mellon-nîn" every time "mellonamin" is used, okay?  
  
As some of you know, English is not my first language, so please DO tell me when (not "if" *g*) you see a mistake. Since I'm a perfectionist, I _hate_ it when there are errors in my stories, and it really helps to improve my abilities. Thank you!  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 1  
  
  
_"…and I hate to say it, my friend, but I told you so. I expressly warned you that something like this would happen, but would you listen? I don't really think I need to answer this question, do I? Really, Elrond, this time all of you have outdone yourselves, I swear that those reckless sons of yours are beginning to rub off on you. What were you thinking, going after them alone? You could have been killed, and I would have had to explain your erratic behaviour – not to mention your death, that of your sons and the prince's – to your parents-in-law, which is a thought that makes me shiver and a fate a lot worse than death."_  
  
  
At this point the Lord of Imladris let the letter he was holding sink down onto his lap, chuckling helplessly. Glorfindel could exaggerate things grossly. But then again, he mused, it would take more courage than a single elf or man could possibly possess to face the Lady of the Golden Wood and her husband, bearing the news that their son-in-law, all of their grandsons and the Prince of Mirkwood were dead.  
  
Elrond turned serious again when he thought of how close to that they had come less than three weeks ago when Cornallar, an elf lord which all had deemed dead, had returned after 3000 years to avenge the death of his son which he wrongly blamed on the Master of Rivendell. To avenge him by killing Elrond's youngest son, then the elf lord himself and all those who got in the way of his plans, namely Elladan, Elrohir and Legolas.  
  
'And,' the dark haired elf lord mused, 'He very nearly succeeded. If not for the timely arrival of the Mirkwood warriors, Aragorn would have died, and I would have been powerless to prevent it.'  
  
He quickly shook his head, drawing himself out of his dark thoughts. Cornallar was dead, as were most of those who had helped him, and his sons and the prince were alive and well. Elrond grimaced, oh yes, they were_ very_ well, judging by their behaviour. It was a miracle that King Thranduil hadn't already ordered him to take his sons, leave his realm and never come back, thank you very much.   
  
He let his eyes wander over the part of the royal gardens he could observe from the balcony he could access from his rooms, unperturbed by the cool breeze that blew brown and red leaves onto the small platform and into his room. Yes, the twins and Legolas were definitely hale again, and had been for over a week now. Their elven bodies allowed them to heal a lot faster than other beings, and their numerous injuries, enough to provide the author of a medical textbook with enough visual aids to make him or her exceedingly happy, had healed nicely.  
  
Estel, on the other hand, was another matter. The first week the young ranger had done little more than sleep, which had allowed his fractured skull to heal up to the point where he could lift it without the feeling that it was being slowly squeezed in a vice until his eyes felt ready to pop out of their sockets.  
  
Yes, the father of the boy in question sighed, those first eight or nine days had been gloriously peaceful, the only thing he had had to worry about was to get Estel to take his medicine and chase his brothers and the prince out of the room so that the human would get enough rest.  
Naturally, that had been a condition too good to last. After that first week the young man had obviously decided that he was completely healed and needed to make up for the days of resting by coming up with some of the most elaborate escape plans the elf lord had ever seen. Aragorn was being aided in his endeavour to escape his father and the palace healers by his brothers, who really should know better, Elrond thought irritated. Legolas was apparently torn between the urge to help his friend and to make sure that the human got enough rest, but the first outweighed the latter the more time passed and the stronger Estel grew.  
  
In addition to that had Celylith, one of Legolas' closest friends, decided to assist as well to make up for the fact that he hadn't noticed that his best friend Glónduil had been supplying Cornallar with information, something for that nobody blamed him, not even Aragorn. Nobody in Mirkwood had thought that Glónduil's contempt and hate for humans ran so deep that he was willing to help someone as insane as that elf lord.  
  
Elrond shook his head and sighed once more. Aragorn alone was bad enough, Aragorn and his brothers were worse, but Aragorn, his brothers and two other young elves were unbearable. It was almost impossible for him and the other healers to keep up with whatever scheme those five young ones had planned next.   
  
He ran a hair through his dark, braided hair. Yesterday he had told his human son that he wasn't allowed out of his room yet thirty-eight times. Thirty-eight! And every time he had told him no, Aragorn had looked at him with big, hurt silver eyes, as if he was keeping the boy "locked" in his room out of sheer cruelty. Even though his head was healing, there were his broken ribs, his still healing lacerated back and several other wounds, mostly deep cuts and slowly fading bruises. He was simply not strong enough to get up and do Valar-know-what with his brothers and elven friends, Númenorean descent or not, and every sensible being should be able to understand that.  
  
Unfortunately for him and Lord Thranduil's healing staff, the five of them saw that differently.  
  
The Lord of Rivendell shrugged lightly and turned his face towards the left to catch the last rays of the slowly sinking sun, already noticing the drop in temperature as it disappeared behind the tall trees. The last days of autumn were fast approaching, and soon they would need to return to their home in order to avoid being caught by the winter storms on their way over the Misty Mountains.   
  
He wouldn't worry about his youngest now, he decided, Hithrawyn, the master healer, was bearing that burden this afternoon, which left him with enough time to read the highly amusing letter of his friend and advisor, who had returned to Rivendell about one week ago only to find his lord and his sons gone and the whole place in something of an uproar, a situation which the golden haired elf did not appreciate in the slightest.   
  
No, he grinned inwardly, taking up the letter once more, Glorfindel did not sound amused at all…  
  
  
_"You know that I have only the utmost respect for you and your decisions, my lord, but the only word to describe your actions is foolhardy. Foolhardy, and absolutely unbecoming to an elf lord. Honestly, Elrond Peredhil, I would have thought you knew better than to ride off at dead of night without taking an escort with you! I understand your motives of course, but this is hardly proper or wise behaviour!"  
_  
  
Elrond grimaced slightly, here it came, Glorfindel's Things-a-proper-elf-lord-never-does-speech. Suddenly he was very glad he wasn't at home in Rivendell, the only thing worse than Glorfindel delivering his Things-a-proper-elf-lord-never-does-speech was Glorfindel delivering his Things-a-proper-elf-lord-never-does-speech and shooting you his You-know-you-deserve-this-look.  
  
The elf lord resumed his reading, finding that his golden haired friend had come up with a few interesting things he threatened to do to him lest he dare do such a thing ever again.  
  
'He is just offended that I didn't take him with me,' he decided after a while, raising an eyebrow when he read the last threat, something about him being chained to a pole, tar and an particularly ill-tempered balrog.  
  
After a few more pages of lecturing and threats, Elrond reached the end of the message, and smiled softly when he read his friend's words.  
  
  
_"…and even despite all this, I thank all the Valar and Ilúvatar himself that you are safe, mellonamin. Please return as soon as possible, for I do think that Erestor will have a fit if you stay away for much longer. Every time you or the Lady Galadriel are mentioned a vein under his eye throbs nervously, and a few days ago I found him in your study, rehearsing a speech in front of your empty chair explaining why it wasn't his fault that the twins and Prince Legolas had followed you. I really think he will not last for much longer if he can't get this over with soon.  
Please give my regards and well wishes to those demons you call your sons, and I truly don't envy you the task of keeping Estel in bed and the twins away from him.  
I pray for your swift and safe return, and once you arrive here, we will have a serious talk about all this.   
  
May Elbereth watch over your path, my friend.  
  
Glorfindel_  
  
  
Elrond's smile grew a little wider. He was missing his friend, and despite the long speech Glorfindel would give him once he arrived he was looking forward to talking with him about what had transpired during the past month. He needed his quiet insight; there was no better person he could think of to help you analyse your actions than his golden haired advisor.  
  
While the Lord of Rivendell was still contemplating how he would start explaining all this to his friend, a hasty knock sounded on his door and its wings were thrown open, something which surprised Elrond slightly before the surprise was quickly replaced with dread.  
  
This was the house of Thranduil Oropherion who didn't take kindly to people who ignored the valid rules of conduct, and every member of his court knew that.  
Elrond closed his eyes and slowly shook his head, a voice in his head noting that if he kept moving it from side to side as frequently as he did lately, it would probably come loose and fall off his shoulders.  
  
If someone barged into his quarters like this, it could only be ... and that meant…  
  
His feelings of dread increased, and before he had time to open his eyes, a sharp, exasperated elven voice interrupted his thoughts.  
  
"Lord Elrond!"  
  
Sadly acknowledging the fact that there was only one elf of that name in this room, he opened his eyes and looked into the highly infuriated face of Hithrawyn, King Thranduil's best healer. The blonde elf came closer, lifting a slightly shaking white hand and pointing accusingly at the speechless elf lord in front of him.  
  
"Lord Elrond," he repeated, stopping in front of Elrond's beautifully carved wooden chair, "You know that I am most glad to help you and your son, but enough is enough! I refuse!"   
  
The Lord of Rivendell felt the unmistakable signs of an approaching headache, and he moved one of the hands that still gripped Glorfindel's letter to massage an aching temple. Somehow, he thought dryly, he seemed to experience headaches more and more frequently during these past two decades, precisely ever since Estel had learned the elvish word for "prank", which had of course been one of the first Sindarin words Elladan had taught his little brother twenty years ago. By the time the two of them had reached the expression "to drive someone mad", everything had been lost.  
  
"What has he done now?" he asked in a tired voice, already dreading the answer.  
  
"It's not only him, my lord," the healer whined, finally remembering his manners and giving the elf lord a quick bow. Elrond stifled a smile when he heard the other elf's tone of voice; it took quite a lot to make an elf whine. And he imagined it was even harder with a wood-elf.  
  
"It's all of them," Hithrawyn exclaimed, very obviously resisting the urge to wring his hands. "He wouldn't drink the sleeping draught you prepared for him, and those … elflings even encouraged him! This time the prince was the worst of the lot."  
  
The Lord of Imladris noted that the master healer's hands were beginning to twitch and move as if to close around someone's neck, and he forced himself to nod in understanding.  
  
"And then they … they …"  
  
The twitching increased and a murderous look of such intensity spread over the younger elf's face that Elrond quickly looked over the healer's shoulder to make sure that Legolas hadn't followed him. He really wouldn't want to explain to Thranduil why his master healer had tried to strangle the heir to the throne.  
  
"Very well," he said quickly and rose to his feet, careful not to ask what exactly his wayward children had done. As he had told Glorfindel many times, it was best not to ask.   
"If you come with me I will do what I can. I beg your pardon for my sons' behaviour, I will see that they are sufficiently punished."  
  
At the last word Hithrawyn's eyes seemed to light up.  
  
"Punished…" he mumbled under his breath, hands twitching once again. Elrond raised an eyebrow and gave him a questioning stare, and the other elf quickly regained his composure.  
  
"That is good enough for me, my lord," he said, bowing slightly and following Elrond out of the room.  
  
After a short walk during which the dark haired elf lord entertained himself with vivid visions of what he would do to his sons once he had made sure that Estel drank enough sleeping potion to keep him drugged until the next month, they reached the room next to Legolas' in which the young ranger was staying every time he visited his elven friend.  
  
Elrond eyed the open door wearily, resisting the sudden powerful urge to knock his head against one of the stone walls. Repeatedly and until either the wall or his head gave way.  
  
"You left them alone?" he asked, piercing the other healer with an unbelieving glare.  
  
"Uhm, I, I didn't think … I mean they wouldn't …" Hithrawyn stammered, giving both the empty room and the elf lord next to him who was shaking his head vigorously now nervous glances.   
  
"I am sorry, Lord Elrond," he finally said. "I should have known they would seize this chance."  
  
The dark haired elf lord opened tired grey eyes and gave the master healer a weak smile.  
"Don't be, Hithrawyn. I should have known better than to let you face all of them alone, 'twas rather like feeding a lamb to a pack of starving wargs…"  
  
Elrond leaned against one of the door posts, surveying the room, his eyes wandering over the four armchairs the young elves had dragged to Aragorn's bedside and coming to rest on the rumpled sheets that covered the soft bed. Indeed, he should have known that all of this had merely been a manoeuvre to provide the five with enough time to escape…  
  
"My lord?" the blonde elf questioned. "What shall we do? They could be everywhere by now, we will need the guards to find them, and even then it will be hard." He shrugged hopelessly. "When Prince Legolas wants to disappear, then disappear he does."  
  
The Lord of Imladris frowned in thought, where would they go? They couldn't leave the palace, no matter what Estel said, his body was far from healed from the traumas it had endured during the past weeks. They wouldn't go to Legolas', the twins' or Celylith's quarters either, that was far too obvious…   
Where would _he_ go if half the healing staff were chasing after him? Not that he would run off like that in the first place, he amended quickly, that would be truly un-elf-lordly behaviour.  
  
After a second he turned around, smiling grimly at the master healer.  
"I can't speak for the prince or Celylith, but I think I know where my sons would go."  
  
He turned around and quickly made his way back the way they had come, deep red robes swishing softly over the polished stone floors, closely followed by the confused Hithrawyn.  
  
'You can run,' Elrond thought darkly as he rounded a corner and headed for the next staircase, 'But you cannot hide. Not from me, my sons.'  
  
  
  
  
"I don't think this is a very good idea," Elrohir said, peering around the corner cautiously and flattening his body against the white stone wall in the process.  
  
"Nonsense, brother, where would no sensible person hide if all the healers were looking for him?"  
  
With a tired sigh the younger twin turned back to his companions, surveying their appearance closely and deciding, not for the first time, that he somehow had ended up in the company of a horde of lunatics. Highly entertaining lunatics maybe, but lunatics nonetheless.  
  
"He is right, Elrohir," Estel nodded, leaning a little harder on Legolas' arm that was keeping him upright. "No intelligent being would hide in the healing wing."  
  
"Then remind me again just why we are doing it, brother!" Elrohir whispered fiercely, glaring at his human brother. "Just look at you! You are wearing only a shirt and a robe! If father catches us, he will drug you into the next age and kill all of us. If we are lucky."  
  
"Oh, Elrohir, stop it!" Legolas rolled his eyes. "Where is your thirst for adventure?"  
  
"I left it in those accursed goblin tunnels of yours, _mellonamin_," Elrohir shot back, his eyes twinkling teasingly. "You know, the ones where we almost died because of that little walk under the mountains you suggested?"  
  
"As if I could ever forget," the prince mumbled, suppressing a cold shiver. He really didn't want to think about those two days.  
  
"I must admit, Legolas, I think Elrohir has a point," Celylith chimed in, turning back to face his friends from where he had watched the empty corridor behind them. "Why should we do what only a suicidal person would consider? I mean, honestly, whose idea was this? Hide in the healing wing!"  
  
Legolas and Aragorn turned simultaneously to give the silver haired elf a cold stare.  
  
Celylith swallowed nervously and tried to ignore the snickering twins.  
  
"An excellent idea indeed, my lord," he said quickly to Legolas, moving closer to where the two friends were standing and taking the young man's other arm. "Shall we?"  
  
The five of them moved quickly round the corner, making their way as soundlessly as possible towards one of the rooms that were empty right now, or so had Legolas assured them when he had been here this morning to "scout the terrain".   
Their plan was to hide until the healers had given up their search and then escape to do something interesting. Right now Aragorn didn't care what, even drawing his entire family tree back to Beren and Lúthien would appear fascinating after more than two weeks of doing virtually nothing. No, wait, he had done that yesterday already. Twice.  
  
After a few seconds they had reached the small room and while Legolas and Celylith lowered the young ranger onto one of the two beds that were the only pieces of furniture that occupied the space, the twins closed the thin wooden door quickly, leaning against it in relief.  
  
'Well, that went quite well,' Elrohir gave an inward sigh of relief, 'Perhaps it's not such a bad plan after all…'  
  
Elladan seemed to agree with him on this.  
"Perfect," Elrond's oldest son said happily, pushing a strand of dark hair behind a pointed ear, "They won't find us for hours in here."  
  
"Are you so sure about that, young one?"  
  
The deep voice made all of them whirl around, and the five young beings watched with wide eyes as Lord Elrond Peredhil of Imladris stepped out of one of the dark corners which they hadn't checked in their hurry to get inside the room.  
  
Elladan opened his mouth to say something, but all that could be heard was a small wheezing sound before he closed his mouth with a snap.  
The door behind the twins opened to reveal Hithrawyn and two other healers, who wore expressions so dark that they would have had a horde of uruks run in panic.  
  
Legolas smiled nervously, unconsciously edging closer to the window. It wasn't too deep down, and everything was better than to face the wrath of a healer.   
'A Elbereth, Lord Elrond…'  
  
Elrond fought very hard to keep a straight face. These five looked so much like startled deer that it was almost ridiculous. Slowly he stepped closer, watching with silent amusement as the young elves and the ranger seemed to shrink in front of his very eyes.  
  
He slowly folded his arms, giving each of them the _look_, the one that very clearly said that they were in deep, deep trouble.  
"Well?" he asked in a silky voice, trying very hard to stop the corners of his mouth from twisting into a smile that would spoil the whole thing.  
  
As if on cue, four of the five fixed their eyes on Elladan, and Elrohir nudged his twin in the ribs to emphasize their point. Elladan glared at the others before turning to his father.  
  
"Well," he began, desperately trying to come up with a believable story, "Well, we decided to take a little walk."  
  
Aragorn groaned inwardly. 'Very convincing indeed, brother, well done.'  
  
Elrond raised an eyebrow.  
"A walk? To enjoy the beautiful scenery here, I assume?"  
  
Elladan blushed slightly and fumbled for words before being interrupted by the Prince of Mirkwood.  
"Yes, my lord, we thought that Estel could use some exercise and…"  
  
At this point the master healer interrupted his prince, something that he never would have done under any other circumstances. But right now, Hithrawyn just didn't care, and in his opinion King Thranduil should even thank him if he strangled that little princeling.  
  
"What the _edan_ needs is rest! You had planned all this, hadn't you? It was all a plan to make me leave the room…"  
  
Legolas eyed the other elf with a mixture of surprise and apprehension. He had never seen the healer like this before, and Hithrawyn's hands that seemed to be yearning to close around someone's – and in the prince's opinion, his – neck worried him more than a little bit.  
  
Before the master healer could do something he would have had trouble explaining to his liege lord later, Aragorn's voice interrupted the silence.   
  
"Please, _ada_," he begged, turning huge grey eyes on his foster father, "It's all my fault. I made them help me. But if I have to stay one more day locked in that room I will simply go insane!"  
  
The twins looked at each other in surprise, but silently agreed not to contradict that statement. Their father wouldn't hurt Estel for he wasn't completely healed yet, but he might very possibly hurt _them_…  
  
Legolas on the other hand shook his head and took a step closer to his human friend.  
"It is not only Aragorn's fault, Lord Elrond; I helped him out of my own free will."  
  
He grinned at the young man and muttered out of the corner of his mouth, "As if you could force me to do anything I don't want to do, human."  
  
Aragorn shot his friend a look full of annoyance and gratitude. While he didn't want his friend to get into any more trouble, he was very glad that he didn't have to face his father's wrath alone.  
  
Elrond looked at the two of them who looked at him like a pair of criminals about to ascent the scaffold, and this time he couldn't stop the slight smile from spreading over his features.  
  
"Very well," he shook his head, "We will talk about this later. I will make sure Estel gets back to his room and goes to sleep and then I expect all of you," he graced all of them with a stern look, "in my room so we can discuss this little episode. Understood?"  
  
The four young elves nodded eagerly, apparently glad that Elrond wasn't dragging them in front of the king demanding that they be thrown into the dungeons for a few decades. Aragorn however didn't look too pleased with the developments, but knew better than to protest. He didn't want to be given the _look_ twice on one day, and so he allowed his foster father to carefully pull him to his feet and steer him into the direction of the door. Before they passed out of sight, the young man turned slightly in his father's grip and gave his brothers and friends an apologetic smile. With one last look at Elladan's broadly grinning figure, who was spreading his hands and shaking his head in a gesture that very much said "Rather you than me", they passed round a corner and he turned back to the elf lord.  
  
He gave his foster father a careful smile, trying to gauge from his expression if Elrond was really furious with him.  
"How did you know where we were?" he asked after a little while.  
  
Elrond snorted softly as they were slowly making their way to the upper levels of the palace, ignoring the curious looks some of the passing elves gave them.  
"Please, my son, I have had to put up with your brothers for more than 2800 years now, I think I know quite well how their minds work, scary as that thought might be. Besides, as you well know, there are only two good places to hide something: First, in plain sight, and second, where no sane person would suspect it. And since I know you and your brothers well, I knew which of the two you would choose."  
  
The young ranger stared at his father with wide eyes, deciding that they were beginning to rub off on him. At times likes these he could very clearly see from which side of the family the twins had got their rather unique sense of humour.  
  
The dark haired elf smiled at his stunned human son as they were slowly walking down the corridor that led to the young man's room.  
"But I have to admit, I was tempted to check the dungeons as well," he admitted, causing his son to stare at him in shock.  
  
"_Ada_! I would never hide in the dungeons!" he exclaimed as they crossed the threshold of his room. "I have to admit that they are quite light and airy here compared to some others I have seen, but they are still dungeons! They are just one notch above an ordinary cave, nothing more."  
  
Elrond smiled slightly as he helped Estel lay down, making a mental note to see to it that the four young ones returned the armchairs from where they had got them.  
"Don't let any of our hosts hear that, Estel, or you may find yourself thrown out of Mirkwood faster than you would like."  
  
Aragorn grinned wickedly, relaxing into the soft sheets. The little trip had tired him more than he cared to admit.  
"But I _have_ told them, more than once actually. I have to admit that it produced some rather … interesting reactions."  
  
"I bet it did," Elrond mumbled softly, pulling the covers up to his youngest son's neck before turning serious and giving him a stern look.   
  
"Why did you do it, Estel?" he asked quietly, looking the young human in the eye. "You know you still need rest, you may heal faster than a normal human, but you are no elf, my son."  
  
Aragorn dropped his eyes to his hands that he had with some difficulty freed from the covers that his father had pulled over them and were now fiddling with the top blanket. He hated it when his father looked at him like that, with disappointment and worry in his grey eyes. He _hated_ disappointing or worrying his family, but somehow he always seemed to do it anyway.  
  
"I know, father, and I am sorry. But I cannot stand being cooped up like this for much longer! There is so much I have to do and see and I still haven't visited Celylith's sp…, his, uhm, his spade," he finished rather lamely.  
  
The Lord of Rivendell lifted a dark brow and gave him a suspicious look.  
"What would a young warrior such as Celylith want with a spade?"  
  
Estel smiled unconvincingly and carefully leaned back into the pillows Legolas and his brothers had insisted he kept behind his back once he had been strong enough to sit up. There were at least two dozen of them of all colours, sizes and forms, and the young ranger strongly suspected that several other elves were sorely missing their cushions now.  
  
"I don't know, _ada_, that is why I have to see it."  
  
Before his father could reply, he hurried to continue.  
"I didn't mean to worry you, father. I just needed to get out of the room for a bit, and I already feel much better."  
  
Elrond gave the young human an admonishing look before turning his eyes onto the small nightstand in front of him, sorting through his medicines before taking up a small glass vial.  
"Well, that is no reason to drive King Thranduil's best healer to the brink of insanity. I swear to you, Estel," he added, not taking his eyes off the goblet in which he mixed the contents of the vial with some water, "If that poor elf kills the prince, it will be your fault."  
  
He placed the cup in his son's hand and studied the man closely whose eyes were now fixed on his hands that held the drinking vessel. He put a finger under Aragorn's chin and lifted his head until their eyes met.  
  
"I know, Estel," he said softly, smiling at the boy, "I know you are sorry. And I understand why you and the others decided to take your little 'walk'. It doesn't mean that I approve of it, of course, but I am not angry with you. Drink this," he raised a hand when he saw the rebellious sparkle in his son's eyes, "Drink it, and when you wake up tomorrow I promise you will be allowed out of bed for an hour. Tomorrow is the day the trader will be arriving to have a talk with Seobryn, and if you are strong enough, you can go and visit him before they meet."  
  
At that Aragorn's eyes seemed to light up. He would very much like to see the boy again who had helped him survive Cornallar's captivity and had in the end risked his own life to help him. Elrond had pleaded Legolas' father not to turn him over to the jurisdiction of the men of Dale with the other humans that had survived their encounter with Celylith's extremely angry guards that had come just in time to save them, and the elven king had agreed to help find a new home for the young man.  
  
That Seobryn should become a trader had actually been Elrond's idea, since the boy loved to travel but possessed absolutely no stealth whatsoever which made it impossible for him to live with the rangers, so the life of a far-travelling tradesman seemed like the logical choice.  
Since the elves of Mirkwood did a lot of trade with the people of Lake-town, King Thranduil had quite some influence amongst the trading community there, and one of the most respected members of that guild had agreed to visit the woodking's halls to see if Seobryn had what he was looking for in an apprentice.  
  
"I had completely forgotten! That would be wonderful,_ ada_." Aragorn's eyes wandered back to the goblet he held and he screwed up his face in disgust. "I don't need this."  
  
"Yes, you do," his foster father replied, pushing the cup containing the sleeping draught back towards the young ranger. "I know you do not sleep well."  
  
Estel lowered his eyes quickly, but not quickly enough to conceal the guilt from his father's keen eyes. How did Elrond always know these things?  
"I sleep well enough," he said, sounding unconvincing even to his own ears.  
  
"You are having nightmares," the elf lord stated quietly, studying his youngest closely. The dreams had started about a week ago when the young human's body had become rested enough to actually sleep and not fall into deep unconsciousness every time he closed his eyes.  
  
He put a hand on Aragorn's shoulder, looking earnestly at him.  
"If you want to talk about them…" he offered his son.  
  
"No!" the young ranger shook his head a little too quickly, a slightly haunted look in his eyes. Seeing Elrond's disapproving face, he added, "I … I can't remember them."  
  
The Lord of Rivendell hid a sad smile. Estel had always been like this, trying to hide from others what he perceived to be his weaknesses, even from his family. The boy always thought they would make him appear less in the eyes of his adopted father and brothers, while the direct opposite was the case.  
  
'And,' Elrond sighed inwardly, 'he has never been able to lie to me and, by Elbereth's stars, I hope that he never will be.'  
  
He inclined his head slightly.  
"As you wish. But if you should change your mind, I will be here to listen. As will be Legolas and your brothers."  
  
At that the dark look disappeared from Estel's face and he smiled at his elven father.  
"I know, father," he said, taking a sip of the potion and grimacing at its bitter taste. "This is even worse than usual!"  
  
The Lord of Imladris rolled his eyes and put a hand under his son's, forcing him to down the rest of the cup.  
"It is not, and even if it were, you would deserve it for what you've done today. Besides, it is not supposed to taste pleasant, it is medicine."  
  
Aragorn tried to glare at his father, but his limbs were already beginning to feel heavy and his eyelids were beginning to drop despite his struggles to keep them open.  
  
"You could put some honey in it. I wouldn't object to drinking that," he mumbled tiredly.  
  
Elrond smiled at the sleepy human in front of him.  
"And give you another reason to get yourself injured? I think not, my son." He brushed a strand of dark hair out of the boy's closing eyes. "Sleep now. We will wake you in time to visit Seobryn."  
  
With an almost imperceptible nod Estel fell asleep, and after a few moments Elrond rose from the bed, still looking at his youngest son.  
  
"Young ones," he muttered softly, giving Aragorn one last fond look before turning towards the door.  
  
His mind returning to the four younger elves that awaited him in his quarters, he quickly left the room and quietly closed the double door. Walking back into the direction of his rooms, he forced his face into a stern façade. He had some things to discuss with those irresponsible elflings that were always so keen on insisting that they were grown-up.  
  
Elrond snorted softly, earning himself yet another curious glance from a passing guard.  
  
Ha, grown-up indeed!  
  
  
  
  
Several hundred leagues away, a dark figure was watching the setting sun, watching how shadows were beginning to creep over the lands. His lands. All his eyes could see, all even elven eyes would have been able to see, all this belonged to him.   
  
But it wasn't enough, it was never enough.  
  
And how could it be, he asked himself darkly. He deserved so much more than what he possessed, _they_ deserved so much more…  
'Soon,' a small voice inside his head whispered, 'Soon all the lands to the east of the mountains will belong to you, and then it will be enough. Finally you will have achieved what your forefathers have only dreamt of.'  
  
He frowned openly. He wasn't good at waiting, and he never had been. But right now it was all he could do, wait and watch the slowly darkening world from his window.  
  
"My lord?" a timid voice behind him asked, and he turned slightly to fix his eyes on one of his servants.  
  
"What?" he asked, suppressing the sudden agitation he felt.  
  
"He is back, my lord," the servant said quietly. "The rumours have proven to be indeed true. He urged to act as quickly as possible, from what I gathered there are several other parties involved as well. Shall I send him in?"  
  
The figure clothed in black and grey turned back towards the window, smiling in grim satisfaction. Finally it began, the first move at whose end would stand what he had always desired…  
  
"My lord?" the servant asked again, sounding very unhappy that he had to disturb his lord yet again. It was never wise to do such a thing.  
  
He blinked quickly, drawing himself out of his reverie.  
"Yes," he answered the servant and dismissed him with a wave of his hand, "Yes, send him in."  
  
The other nodded and, after giving him a small bow, exited the room as soundlessly as he had come.  
  
The dark figure at the window didn't notice the servant leave the room, his eyes once again fixed on the creeping shadows that started to engulf his lands. Shadows could be useful sometimes, he thought with a wry smile, they could conceal many things until it was too late to stop them…  
  
'Nobody will stop me,' he thought firmly, his hands gripping the window frame, 'Soon it will be too late for anyone to stop me.'  
  
He forced himself to calm down and take a deep breath. His time hadn't come yet, he would wait, for a little longer. He smiled again, watching the last of the sunlight disappear behind the mountains. He had waited for so long, he thought as he heard the sounds of two beings draw closer to his rooms, he could wait a little longer.  
  
After all, what were a few months or even years in comparison to the centuries his family had already waited for this moment?  
  
Darkness fell over the lands, and he turned to face his visitor, an eerie smile still playing about his lips.  
  
  
  
  
  
**TBC...  
  
  
  
  
  
** _mellonamin - my friend  
edan - human, man  
ada - father (daddy)_  
  
  
  
  
**Ah well, here we go again. Most of you will know that I use this bit of space to beg for reviews, and what's the point in changing such an old and august tradition? *g* Okay, so: Would you review, please? I mean, hey! It's only my second story and the first chapter and and and... *takes deep breath* Please? Please? Pretty Please?**  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Memories

**Disclaimer: **For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.  
  
  
**A/N:  
  
Awww, you guys are SO SWEET!!! *huggles readers*** **I missed you too!  
Thanks so much for all the reviews, they just ... inspire me, I guess. They really do, _and_ they make me post faster! Yes they do! Really! Originally I wanted to post tomorrow, but because of the great feedback (and the fact that I have other things to do, but that's irrelevant *g*) I have decided to do it today! Yay!  
  
I'm glad all of you liked Glorfindel, I love him myself, he's so cute! *huggles resisting elven warrior* But I fear the "golden haired beauty" (*shoots xsilicax odd look*) is not really going to be in this story. I don't know about the next yet. He might be there, perhaps with the twins... *shrugs* I'm not sure.  
And about the "dark, mysterious, evil man" in the beginning: Well, I'm NOT telling who he is or what his motives are or anything, and you will have to wait quite a bit until it'll be revealed. Might even be in the next story, we'll see... *evil grin*  
  
Okay, here's chapter 2, in which we see ... _very_ annoyed elven princes, learn Celylith's "spade's" name, more of the evil man and his probably evil plans and a little bit of Elrond's and Thranduil's youth (well, Elrond was 3300+ years old, so 'youth' is a very relative term... *g*). *giggles* Oh, they're so mad that I'm telling you that story... *evil grin*  
  
Enjoy and review, please! (*readers groan in unison* Here we go again...)  
  
  
  
**

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Chapter 2  
  
  
Aragorn was waking up slowly, far too slowly for his liking. That was another thing he hated about sleeping potions, he decided as he tried to force his brain to start working again, they always made waking an incredible struggle. Every time it took him ages to shake off the sleepiness and his thoughts wouldn't lose that certain fuzzy feeling for at least half an hour after he had finally managed to pry his eyelids open.  
  
This time, however, it seemed to be easier to wake, and soon he discovered the reason for this: There were voices, voices that seemed to be conversing in volumes that could have woken a troll from hibernation.  
  
The young human groaned inwardly. What was it with him and voices? To him it seemed that every other time he awoke, there were voices talking next to him, either telling him to wake up or interrupting his sleep by yelling at each other next to his head. Who needed voices anyway, he wondered grumpily, there was a perfectly adequate sign language that did just as well…  
  
"And I still say it, Elladan, he must have put too much of the root in the draught; Estel's been asleep for more than fourteen hours now!" Elrohir's voice invaded his thoughts.  
  
"I know, brother, and I absolutely agree with you. There is only the question if _ada_ did it on purpose or if it was an accident…"  
  
"Oh no, _ada_ wouldn't overdose one of his patients knowingly, you know that as well as I do. There are some _other_ people however who have no such scruples…"  
  
Elladan sounded shocked.  
"Just what are you implying, Elrohir?"  
  
Estel slowly opened his eyes and looked around the room that was empty except for his two elven brothers. Elladan and Elrohir were sitting to his left side in a pair of armchairs and were so focused on their bickering that they didn't notice that their younger brother was awake.  
  
Right now Elrohir gave his twin a wicked look.  
"Well, I seem to remember an incident about, well, I think about three hundred years ago when a certain someone who shall remain nameless drugged me, without my knowledge I might add, for more than a day 'by accident'."  
  
Elladan gave his younger brother an innocent smile that fooled neither Elrohir nor Aragorn.  
"It _was_ an accident, brother! It was merely a coincidence that it enabled me to carry you back home without you aggravating your wounds or driving me insane with your protestations what you were alright."  
  
"I _was_ alright!" the younger twin insisted exasperatedly. This was an argument they had about once a decade.   
  
The other elf chuckled merrily.  
"Oh, of course you were. An orc arrow in the shoulder, a complicatedly broken leg and half a dozen broken ribs count as perfectly alright, forgive my stupidity."  
  
Elrohir rolled his eyes at his brother. He knew this was an argument he couldn't win, simply because Elladan was right. He had been in a bad shape after that arrow had propelled him over the cliff, and if one believed his twin, he had very nearly died on the way back to Rivendell almost causing his brother to go insane with worry, but he would be damned if he admitted that.  
  
"You are forgiven, this time," he said haughtily, nodding at his brother. "I know it is not your fault. You are trying as hard as you can, and you can't change that you are a bit slow sometimes…" At this point he had to leave his armchair, quite hastily one might add, to avoid his brother's hand that had aimed a smack at his head.  
  
Aragorn cleared his throat, deciding to let them know he was awake before they started chasing each other across the room and over his bed.  
  
"I hope I am not disturbing the two of you?" he asked, noting their startled faces with some satisfaction. It was nearly impossible to surprise the two elves, and every time he managed to do so was worthy of remembrance. "If you want to continue with this, I can leave and get some more sleep elsewhere."  
  
Elladan grinned at him, shooting his twin that had wisely moved out of his reach a dark glare.  
"Oh, don't worry, little brother, Elrohir and I will finish this little discussion. Later."  
  
Elrohir shuffled nervously and moved back a few steps. Elladan could bear a grudge for a long time indeed, and he would have to be on his guard for the next few days. He made a mental note to ask Legolas about a tree in which he could sleep comfortably this night. He knew his brother well enough to know what would happen should he give him a chance to avenge himself for those little comments, and he wasn't going to make it any easier on his twin by sleeping in an easily accessible room.  
  
Aragorn grinned back, satisfied that for now they wouldn't try to kill each other.  
"As long as you do it far away from me, I don't care. What time is it?"  
  
Elrohir stepped closer, still keeping an eye on his elven brother.  
"Almost midday, little brother. You need to get up now if you want to visit Seobryn before that _mainkar_ arrives."  
  
"Midday?" the human gasped, pushing back the covers and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. That rapid movement proved to be too much for his still healing head, and he closed his eyes and gripped the bedstead tightly until the room stopped spinning and the invisible maniac next to him got tired of jamming red-hot pokers into his head.  
  
Quietly thanking Ilúvatar that his father wasn't here for he would surely drug him once more if he found out about this, he opened his eyes again and looked into the worried faces of his elven brothers.  
  
"Estel?" Elrohir asked, placing a hand on the young ranger's forehead. "Are you alright? Has your vision gone blurry again? How many fingers am I holding up?"  
  
Aragorn scowled at the younger twin, slapping his hand away from his forehead.  
"Yes, no, and three. I am fine; I just tried to get up a little too fast, that's all."  
  
He sighed as he saw the dubious look the two of them were exchanging.  
"I am fine, really. Now would you please get out of here so I can change? I really would not want to visit Seobryn wearing only a robe; he would feel only worse than he already is."  
  
The twins gave him a long look, but nodded and quickly left the room.   
Estel was probably right, Elladan mused as they waited outside the now closed doors, the other human would feel even guiltier than he did now when he saw that Aragorn was still far from healed. The boy blamed himself for his inability to prevent most of the harm that had befallen the ranger, even though he knew in his heart that there had been nothing he could have done.  
  
The older twin winced inwardly when he remembered the fearful look on Seobryn's face every time the human saw an elf, and especially them, their father or Legolas. The boy still couldn't believe that the elves wouldn't seek retribution for what the other mercenaries had done to Aragorn. Elladan forcefully suppressed the hate that welled up inside of him, hate for the people who had dared treat his little brother in such a fashion. When he had first laid eyes on his younger brother after they had finally found him, lying bleeding and broken in Elrohir's arms, the only thing he had wanted to do was kill all of those who had hurt him, and kill them slowly, if possible.  
  
With a quick shake of his head he pushed these memories back down. Elrohir had been right when he had told him not to allow these dark feelings to consume him, that it would solve nothing.  
  
'They have all paid one way or the other,' he thought grimly, remembering the many humans he had had to kill that day. He didn't feel sorry for them in the slightest, he decided after a few seconds, they had got what they deserved, and the survivors had been handed over to the men of Dale, which was far too lenient a fate in Elladan's opinion.  
  
At that point he heard light footfall that quickly drew closer, and he and Elrohir turned to see the Prince of Mirkwood approach them, his fair hair shining in the sunlight.  
His expression though, the older twin decided, was more than a bit sour, and right now he reminded Elladan strongly of the other's father.  
  
'No,' he thought as he watched his friend come closer, 'Not even King Thranduil could look that terrifying, not even if he had just heard that a horde of dwarves had broken into his cellars and emptied every single one of his wine barrels.'  
  
Elrohir either hadn't noticed Legolas' mood, or he chose to ignore it.  
"Legolas! What is it, _mellonamin_? You look positively dreadful! What has happened? Has someone plundered your father's vaults?"  
  
The older twin winced inwardly. It wasn't wise to taunt the fair haired elf about his father's well-known love for silver and precious gems on the best of days, but on one of his bad days it was widely considered suicidal.  
'Valar,' Elladan thought as he watched Legolas' face darken even more, 'And he says _I_ am stupid?!'  
  
Elrohir opened his mouth to make another comment, but before he could say anything, the doors opened and a now fully dressed Estel stepped out, apparently not aware that he had just saved his elven brother's life, judging by Legolas' truly dangerous expression.  
  
The elven prince shot the younger twin one last glare before turning his eyes on his human friend.  
"Aragorn! How do you feel?"  
  
The young ranger rolled his eyes. He just didn't understand that question; did he really look that bad so that he encouraged every single person to ask him that?  
  
"I feel fine, _mellonamin_," he said in a long-suffering tone of voice, giving his elven brothers dark glares, "Really. I am fine. Can we go now? I would really like to see him before the trader arrives, I'm sure he could use some encouragement. I don't think he has got used to seeing that many elves every day."  
  
Elrohir snorted softly. One could definitely say that, he thought dryly, the boy looked ready to die of fright every time he saw one of the firstborn. And, considering the fact that he had spent the past three weeks in an elven city and was surrounded by elves, he wore that expression almost constantly, something which just couldn't be healthy for a human.  
  
Legolas nodded, smiling at the ranger and taking one of his arms.  
"Of course. I came to see where you were, the tradesman will be here in half in hour."  
  
The four of them made their way down the corridor, the twins discreetly making sure that they were in positions to catch their younger brother should he stumble.  
  
"Where is Celylith?" Aragorn asked as they made their way down the marble staircase, carefully placing one foot in front of the other carefully. The last thing he needed was to tumble down the stairs, he thought darkly, Elrond wouldn't let him leave his room for weeks.  
  
The young ranger was too concentrated on the stairs to notice his friend's face that took an expression of utmost annoyance once the other elf's name was spoken.  
  
It was, however, not lost on the twins.  
  
"Yes, where is he?" Elladan asked, gazing innocently at the prince. It was obvious that the silver haired elf was somehow responsible for Legolas' current mood, and he would make sure he learned all about what had happened.  
  
The fair haired elf scowled at the empty hallway in front of them.  
"He is visiting Wilwarin."  
  
"Wilwarin?" Aragorn questioned, stopping and looking at him curiously. "Do I know her? Is there an elf maiden that has stolen his heart and he didn't tell us about her?"  
  
To the surprise of the three brothers, Legolas just stared at them with wide eyes before letting go of the young human's arm and starting to roar with laughter. After a few seconds he couldn't keep his feet any longer, and he sank to the floor, laughing as if that had been the funniest thing he had ever heard in his over 2500 years of existence.  
  
Aragorn raised an eyebrow and turned to his brothers, whose only answers were an identical pair of clueless shrugs. This wasn't like Legolas at all, but perhaps they were beginning to rub off on him. Who could say?  
  
They waited a few more seconds for the prince to calm down, but when he showed no such inclination, the young human's patience finally ran out.  
  
"Alright, my friend, what is it? I can't see what could possibly justify this amount of amusement," he said, folding his arms across his chest and giving his friend the best reproduction of the _look_ he could manage.  
  
Whether or not that had worked, Aragorn would never know, but Legolas finally managed to quieten down a bit. After a moment he shakily rose to his feet, wiping tears of mirth out of his eyes with the sleeve of his light green tunic.  
  
"I am sorry, Strider. But … Wilwarin isn't an elf maid. She isn't a girl at all. Not really, anyway. I mean, she is female, yes, but…"  
  
The three of them looked at each other, obviously at a loss.   
  
After a heartbeat's pause, Elrohir voiced what all of them were thinking.  
"You are not making any sense at all, Legolas."  
  
The fair haired elf grinned at them, slowly resuming his walk into the direction of Seobryn's quarters.  
"He's visiting the 'sweet, adorable, gorgeous, innocent, perfect little thing' he couldn't part with. Against my direct orders as I might add."  
  
Elladan stared at the prince, disbelief on his face.  
"You mean he called that abominable spider Wilwarin? But … but, Legolas, Wilwarin means…"  
  
"Butterfly," Aragorn finished his brother's sentence, beginning to grin as well. Only Celylith would think of calling a giant spider "butterfly".  
  
"He is insane," Elrohir said gravely and shook his head. "Completely, utterly, hopelessly mad. 'Butterfly', Valar save us…"  
  
"How big is it now, four feet high?" Elladan asked, a look of barely concealed disgust on his face. "I have to admit, it was quite funny in the beginning, but now it's gone too far, if you ask me. And I think the increased spider activity all around the palace is somehow connected to the fact that he still hasn't set it free."  
  
Legolas shrugged, shooting the broadly grinning Aragorn a withering glare.  
"That's just what I've been telling him! It's a miracle that nobody has found out about it yet, and once my father does…"  
  
He interrupted himself and shuddered. The three brothers looked at their friend in sympathy, no, it would indeed not be a good thing if King Thranduil found out about Celylith's little "butterfly".  
  
The prince shook his head, a distant look in his eyes.  
"And do you have any idea how hard it is to hide it and get the things a 'sweet little spider' needs to 'grow big and strong and beautiful'? Ha!" he exclaimed, ignoring the twins that were vainly trying to stifle their laughter, "Who wants it to become even bigger than it is? And now it's learning how to weave webs! It's a nightmare!!"  
  
Aragorn swallowed the laughter that was beginning to rise inside of him and put a sympathetic hand on his friend's shoulder.  
  
"I know, Legolas," he tried to soothe the fuming elven prince, "He will come to his senses. Sooner or later."   
  
"The 'later' part is what is worrying me," Legolas grumbled as they stopped in front of Seobryn's room. "I really think the little 'butterfly's' mother is out there looking for it. And I don't think she's very happy right now."  
  
The young ranger's grin faded quickly when he imagined the spider's family coming for their kidnapped baby. He quickly shook his head as a picture of dozens of fully-grown spiders started to build in his mind's eye, frowning slightly as one of the vision-spiders stopped right in front of him, clicking its pinchers and shrieking "Where is my sweet little butterfly??"  
  
"…or what?"  
  
Aragorn blinked as he heard Elrohir's voice interrupt that interesting little vision. Making sure with a quick look that there wasn't a single spider in sight, he turned to his brother and asked,  
  
"Pardon me?"  
  
Elrohir rolled his eyes, mumbling under his breath that stupidity seemed to be contagious.  
"I said, do you want to stand here all day and stare at the really fascinating door or what?"  
  
His human brother scowled at him before taking a step forward and gripping the door handle. When he was just about to knock, he turned back halfway and gave the three elves an apologetic smile.  
  
"I think it's best if you stay here," he said, shrugging sheepishly. "I really think he's quite afraid of you."  
  
Legolas grimaced slightly.  
"Afraid is the wrong word, _mellonamin_. 'Terrified' might be more appropriate."  
  
Aragorn grinned at them.  
"Well, he is right, you know. Considering the way you three smell…"  
  
Before any of them could say or do anything, the young ranger quickly slipped through the door and closed it firmly in their faces.  
  
Elladan stared at the closed wooden door, knitting his brows.  
"That impertinent little…" he began, but stopped quickly as a smile lit up his face, making his eyes shine brightly in his fair face. "He is mending," he added, his smile turning into a wide grin.  
  
Legolas returned the grin, relief plain to see on his features as he settled down on a carved wooden bench to wait for the human.  
"He is, my friend. He will be alright."  
  
  
  
  
King Thranduil had retired from the throne room for a well-deserved break from this morning's council session. Sometimes those became too much even for him, and even though he would never admit it to someone else, he actually understood why Legolas hated attending them. The golden haired king suppressed a tired yawn. The condition of the Forest River's banks really wasn't that fascinating a topic.   
  
He relaxed into the armchair that sat in front of the big picture window in his study. He still had more than half an hour until the council reconvened, and he fully intended to spend every second of it here, watching the royal gardens, drinking a glass of his favourite wine and doing absolutely nothing.  
  
After a second he heard a timid knock on the door, closely followed by the sound of the royal butler, Galion, stepping into the room, careful not to move too stealthily. The king really didn't like to be startled.   
Thranduil closed his eyes tightly and tried to ignore the other elf's presence. Perhaps he would leave him alone when he saw that he did not want to be disturbed?  
  
"Sire?" Galion asked softly, eyeing his king warily.  
  
He was not that lucky, it appeared. The elven king opened one eye with a tired sigh.   
"Yes, Galion?"  
  
"I am sorry to disturb you, your Majesty, but Lord Elrond wishes to speak with you."  
  
With a silent curse that would surely have shocked his butler, Thranduil opened his other eye and used both of them to glare at the other. There it went, his half-hour of peace, quiet and tranquillity. He quickly remembered that this was hardly Galion's fault and gave him a forced smile.  
  
"Very well, please send him in," he told him, running a hand over his face and sitting up a bit straighter in the chair.  
  
A moment later Lord Elrond entered the room, and Thranduil's already fair coloured face paled even more.   
  
'It cannot be,' he thought and quickly blinked twice to check his vision. He fixed his eyes on the dark haired elf lord's face, only to come to rest on the thing that had caused a strong feeling of dread to sweep through his entire body: There it was, a faintly throbbing vein under Elrond's left eye.  
  
Thranduil resisted the urge to burrow his face in his hands, reminding himself just in time that it would hardly be proper behaviour for a king. To any other elf the fact that Lord Elrond had a pulsating vein under one of his eyes would seem unimportant, but, alas, he knew better…   
He had learned a long time ago that that was never a good sign, in fact, more than 3200 years ago, on an evening he and his father had visited Imladris to discuss the growing might of the Lord of the Rings with Lord Elrond Half-elven and the High King …   
  
_  
"Do not tell me you hadn't noticed before, Prince Thranduil!"  
  
The golden haired elf in question looked at the merry and, in his opinion, highly intoxicated face of one of Lord Elrond's advisors. Judging by the dark hair it was Erestor, he tried to remind himself, the golden haired one was Glorfindel, the first elf he had ever met who had returned from the Halls of Mandos. In his opinion that was because the other occupants of those Misty Halls couldn't stand his constantly merry behaviour anymore, a behaviour that was already bordering on being unnatural.  
  
"Are you sure about this?" he asked, sipping at his own glass of truly excellent red wine. It was now his eighth glass … or his eleventh? He couldn't really remember, the only thing he knew for certain was that the banquet had started – and ended – quite a long time ago. And did it really matter? The wine was astonishing. Even if he didn't agree with the High King or his herald on how Sauron should be opposed, he was fair enough to grant Elrond a fine taste in wines.  
  
"Of course he is sure, your Highness," another voice joined in, "We have had more than enough time to study the phenomenon at the closest proximity."  
  
The Prince of Eryn Lasgalen turned and looked in the laughing face of Glorfindel. And, judging by the way said face was slightly flushed, he had had more wine than was good for him as well.  
  
"Well, Lord Glorfindel," he said, noting with surprise that the words were quite hard to articulate, "You will understand that I cannot believe your words until I have seen proof."  
  
The golden haired elf grinned at him, displaying a row of gleaming white teeth.  
  
"Oh, my lord, you will see proof before the night is over," he said, still grinning madly. If he didn't stop that soon, Thranduil decided, it would split the golden haired elf's face in two for sure.   
  
Glorfindel took another mouthful of the ruby liquid in his goblet before he continued.  
"Believe me when I tell you that the master of this house will soon leave the company of your father, the revered King of Greenwood the Great, and Ereinion Gil-galad, our equally revered High King, to see what we are up to. And if I remember the amount of wine my dear friend Elrond has already consumed correctly, it will have caused him to come up with one of his infamous ideas and then you will **certainly** see more proof than you ever wished to!"  
  
At Glorfindel's words Erestor began to giggle helplessly, and even though he highly disapproved such undignified behaviour, Thranduil found himself hard-pressed not to join in. To cover up his sudden inexplicable mirth, he emptied his glass with one gulp, only to have it quickly refilled by the other blonde elf's slightly shaking hand. A small voice inside his head told him insistently that he should stop drinking if he didn't want to end up like the dark haired advisor that was almost falling off the stone bench he occupied, but the prince quickly silenced it. That wine was just too good to miss.  
  
"I wait can't … I mean, I can't wait for it," he said, realising with receding concern that he couldn't even speak correctly anymore. Ah well, he thought, gazing at the two other elves who were laughing loudly at his slip of the tongue, at least he wasn't the only drunk person here.  
  
"And what is so very funny, my friends?" another also slightly slurred voice asked, causing the three of them to whirl round – well, at least they tried to. In the end Glorfindel and Thranduil turned while Erestor was still trying to get into a sitting position since that surprise had proven to be too much and caused him to lose what little control over his body he still possessed and to drop off the bench onto the grass.  
  
With some difficulty the golden haired prince gathered all his remaining dignity and attempted to stand, which proved to be an unwise decision since Lord Elrond's figure seemed to multiply all of the sudden. Thranduil contented himself with staying were he was, blinking at the three identical faces in front of him. By the Valar, only a Noldo would dare do such a thing!  
  
"My lord," he finally said, squinting at the other elf lord, "It is a really excellent wine. I mean feast."  
  
Elrond's face broke into a wide smile.  
"Thank you, Prince Thranduil. I see that you are enjoying yourselves?"  
  
Thranduil nodded as seriously as he could, and Glorfindel said,  
  
"Indeed, mellonamin, we are. Immensely so. The two of them are still discussing the fate of Middle-Earth, I presume?"  
  
Something told Thranduil that he should be offended that that elf talked about his father like this, but somehow he just didn't seem to care. Just as well, he thought, and drank some more of the exceptionally good wine.  
  
Elrond just laughed and nodded.  
"They are. But we have agreed that all will fall into darkness if nothing is done."  
  
"That is something," Erestor nodded, having finally picked himself off the floor to lean against a tall young pine tree. "What do you want to do now?"  
  
Glorfindel nudged Thranduil in the ribs, and the prince snapped to attention: Really, there it was, so aptly named "The Harbinger of Doom" by the two other elves: A throbbing vein right under Elrond's left eye.   
Erestor and Glorfindel had claimed that every time their lord had come up with one of his plans that would surely get all of them into trouble of one kind or another, or every time he wanted something from you, this vein would start to throb weakly.   
  
And, considering the way the dark haired elf's eyes were gleaming, Thranduil was inclined to agree.  
  
"Oh, something that will be much more fun than just sitting here getting drunk," the Lord of Imladris said, smiling innocently at them.  
  
Glorfindel and Erestor exchanged a long-suffering look. Elrond's "ideas" usually promised a lot of fun, but a lot of serious repercussions as well.  
  
"Lead the way then, my lord," Glorfindel said, sighing resignedly. "Are you coming too, my prince?"  
  
Thranduil looked at the others for a moment, the ever-decreasing sensible part of his brain yelling at him to end this before it had even begun, reminding him of the face his father, King Oropher, would display if he ever found out about this. Whatever it was that the Lord of Rivendell was planning, it just couldn't be good.  
  
Shrugging slightly, the prince emptied his glass and nodded.  
"Of course, my lords. No wood-elf ever backed down from a challenge."  
  
The three Noldor elves looked at each other, grinning wickedly. Oh, this was going to be so much fun…  
  
"Very well then," Elrond said, turning a little unsteadily on his heel and heading for the direction of the main house, his still grinning advisors on his heels.  
  
Thranduil looked after them for a second before carefully rising to his feet and following them, ignoring all of his senses that told him that he was about to do one of the stupidest things of all time. Before he left the little clearing next to one of the pearling falls that could be found nearly everywhere in Rivendell, he stopped to grab the still half-full wine decanter.  
  
It was a truly astonishingly good wine.  
  
_  
King Thranduil almost chocked on the red liquid he had drunk to calm himself, remembering how that evening had ended. Looking at the exquisitely wrought silver goblet in his hand as if it had just turned into a spider, he hastily placed it back on his table. He still blamed Elrond's excellent wine for the whole incident, and he didn't intend to make the same mistake twice. He cringed as he remembered the look on Gil-galad's and his father's face when he, Glorfindel and Elrond…  
  
No, he decided quickly, he would definitely _not_ think of that now.  
  
"Lord Thranduil? Are you feeling well?" Lord Elrond's voice interrupted his thoughts.  
  
The elven king blinked and forced himself to look at his visitor's face, careful not to focus on the "Harbinger of Doom". He didn't know what it was that Elrond wanted from him, but he was rather sure that he didn't want to find out either.  
  
"I am well, my lord," he said, folding his hands on top of his desk, forcing them to be still. "But, pray tell, how is Estel doing?"  
  
Elrond looked at him sharply, trying to decide whether the king was referring to the unfortunate … incident yesterday or whether he asked out of real concern for the young human's welfare.  
"He is well, my lord, considering the circumstances. He will be fully healed in less than three weeks, I think. And this is what I wanted to talk with you about."  
  
The golden haired elf forced himself to remain calm; he really didn't like that feeling that was beginning to sneak up on him…  
  
"Please explain, _mellonamin_," he said, his voice emotionless. "What do you mean?"  
  
The other elf lord took a deep breath, the vein under his eye beginning to throb more strongly. Thranduil almost closed his eyes. Here it came.  
  
"Well," Elrond began, "I received a letter from Lord Glorfindel yesterday. He tells me that my presence is much needed back in Imladris."  
  
Thranduil nodded politely, not at all liking the way this was beginning to sound.  
  
"As you well know will the High Pass be inaccessible to everyone who does not leave in ten to twelve days, if he doesn't want to be caught in the winter storms, that is. And storms there will be this year, of that I'm sure," Elrond said, looking at him calculatingly.  
  
"So you…?" Thranduil prompted.  
  
"So I thought Aragorn could winter with you this year. We will need to leave sooner than he will be hale again, and even if he were, I wouldn't want to travel over the mountains with him this time of year if he isn't back to full strength." Looking at the blonde elf's petrified face, he added, "Humans can be quite fragile sometimes. I fear for his health should we take him with us."  
  
The King of Mirkwood smiled thinly, looking at his guest with quiet disbelief.  
"So, Lord Elrond, you want me to allow my son and your youngest stay here, together, for more than three months? With nothing to occupy them but an occasional hunt? Did I understand that correctly?"  
  
Elrond seemed to think about that and finally nodded.  
"Yes, that would be the essence of it, yes."  
  
Thranduil closed his eyes, wishing himself to be far, far away from here. Aragorn and Legolas, together … Aragorn and Legolas, together and with a lot of time at their hands … Aragorn and Legolas, together, with a lot of time on their hands and bored…  
  
He shuddered; not a good combination, not a good combination at all…  
  
He opened his eyes again to fix them on the Lord of Rivendell, who had sat down on a chair next to him, smirking and grey eyes twinkling.  
  
"Do you know what you are asking?"  
  
Elrond smiled and nodded.  
"I know, my friend. I have seen all of its effects last winter, and believe me, it is a unique experience…" Noting the other elf's darkening face, he added, "I am sorry, but I can see no other way. I really would not want to take him with me unless I have absolutely no other choice, and the twins and I need to leave within the next ten days, if possible."  
  
The golden haired king closed his eyes, defeated.  
"Very well then, Estel will be welcome to stay. But," he opened his eyes and stared hard at the Lord of Imladris, "I do not guarantee for the shape he will be in once I can send him back to you." He shrugged. "He and my Legolas just seem to attract trouble, I don't know why either."  
  
Elrond smiled at him again, a playful gleam in his eyes.  
"Don't worry, my lord, they will be fine. As long as you keep them away from the wine they should be alright."  
  
Thranduil glared at him, wincing at the memory of that evening more than 3000 years ago.  
"They can't possibly get into as much trouble as we did, can they?"  
  
The other elf shook his head, grimacing slightly when he remembered the lecture Gil-galad had given him, telling him that he was over 3000 years old and should know better than to go and try to get himself, his closest councillors and the heir to throne of Eryn Lasgalen killed. Well, the only good thing was that he couldn't remember much of it, except for his own inexplicable urge to giggle and the fact that Erestor had passed out about half an hour into it.   
  
"No, they can't. It's just not possible."  
  
The king sat back and looked at the dark trees in the gardens.  
"We should hold on to that thought."  
  
His dark haired companion looked at him, grinning slightly.  
  
"Yes, my lord," he replied, turning his eyes on the gardens as well, "We definitely should."  
  
  
  
  
Aragorn quietly entered Seobryn's quarters, grinning when he heard Elladan's muttered curses. Sometimes it was just too easy to taunt the twins, he thought as he looked around the spacious suite for the other human, they were beginning to become quite predictable in their old age. The young ranger snickered when he imagined what his brothers would say to _that_ expression…  
  
He took some steps into the room, wondering if the boy hadn't heard him knock. It wouldn't surprise him in the slightest, he thought sarcastically, Seobryn was one of the clumsiest and un-stealthiest beings he had ever seen. Well, maybe that wasn't really fair considering that he had lived with the elves ever since he could remember, but…  
  
Aragorn's internal musing was cut short when he saw the boy in question stand in front of a large, silver-framed mirror, fiddling with the clothing he had been given. It was obvious that the young human felt anything but comfortable in the elven garments, but since his own were hardly appropriate for such an important meeting, he had no choice but to wear the clothes he had received.   
  
'And he looks much better than he did the last time I saw him,' the young ranger decided, his eyes wandering about Seobryn's dark green and brown attire and his freshly brushed wavy brown hair. 'Much better, and not nearly as afraid.'  
  
He leaned against one of the high bed posts, wondering how long it would take the other to notice that he wasn't alone in the room. After a long while in which Seobryn did nothing but fiddle with his clothing, he finally glanced up and saw the grinning ranger's image reflected in the looking glass.  
  
"Eru!" he gasped, whirling around, one of his hands going to his heart. "Strider! What do you … how are you?"  
  
Aragorn laughed, noting with satisfaction that his ribs hurt only a little bit at that action.  
"Forgive me, Seobryn, I didn't mean to startle you. And thank you, I am fine."  
  
Seobryn nodded slowly, still trying to calm his racing heart. He sat down heavily on a chair, staring at the other human. He really looked a lot better than the last time he had seen him, but, after all, that had been shortly after they had arrived in Mirkwood. Two weeks ago he had looked terrible indeed, but now the cuts and bruises on his face had healed, and some colour had returned to his cheeks that didn't look quite as hollow anymore.  
  
The boy shook his head, saying the first thing that came to his mind.  
"I am sorry, Strider," he said, casting his eyes to the floor. "You were right, I had a choice, I just decided not to seize it. I should have stopped my uncle and the others from hurting you like they did, I should have done something, but I was too afraid to…"  
  
"There was nothing you could have done and lived," Aragorn interrupted him firmly, sitting down on the bed. "You had an obligation to Addramyr, I understand that, and the fact that you did break with him in the end saved my life. If you had given him that sword, he would have killed me before my brothers would have been able to reach us. I am in your debt."  
  
Seobryn stared at him with wide eyes.  
"You are not! I did the only thing I could, and it was far too late and not enough. Forgive me."  
  
The ranger smiled at the other man, inclining his head.  
"There is no need for that, Seobryn, but if you wish, I will forgive you."  
  
The young man looked at him hesitantly and, after a while, returned the smile.  
"Thank you, Strider. It is I who is in your debt and that of the elf lords for giving me this chance."  
  
Aragorn's smile widened when he saw the awe and fear that flashed over the youngster's face when he mentioned Elrond and Legolas' father.  
"So you would like to become a trader?"  
  
"Of course I would!" Seobryn exclaimed, excitement replacing the other feelings. "It would be so wonderful to travel and actually get paid for it! And I would see different races and places…" He frowned slightly and added as an afterthought, "Although I think I will not come here for quite some time if I can help it."  
  
When the young ranger laughed and raised an eyebrow at that, he hurried to explain, "I mean no disrespect of course, and the elves are treating me with kindness, but they … they are still elves. Do you know what I mean?"  
  
"Yes, Seobryn," he nodded earnestly, "I know what you mean. But you have nothing to fear from them, believe me. No one here will harm you."  
  
The other man dropped his eyes once more.  
"I know Strider, but they are so … odd! I mean, one moment they are wise and serious and terrible, and the next they are laughing and joking like children! And some of them are over a thousand years old, did you know that? And they are still so beautiful!"  
  
Aragorn couldn't hide the grin that formed on his face. He probably shouldn't tell him that his adopted grandmother was well over 7000 years old, that would probably give the lad a heart attack.  
  
"Yes," he smiled, "I did indeed know that. But still, you don't have to be afraid. Tradesmen from Lake-town are honoured and always welcome here in Mirkwood. I am sure you will be accepted as an apprentice, Seobryn, don't worry. And just ignore Lord Elrond's sons. They mean you no harm, they are just a little overprotective at times, that's all."  
  
"You could say that," Seobryn mumbled, remembering the faces of the two dark haired elves when he had first seen them, after his own uncle had knocked him out for his refusal to help him kill the ranger. "Overprotective" was quite a mild term, he would choose something along the lines of "overcome with fury". He had had a hard time accepting that a human was really referring to the fair folk as his family, but he had seen so many strange things during the last month that that wasn't really surprising him anymore either.  
  
A knock sounded at the door and he raised his head, preparing to rise to his feet.  
  
"That is my escort," he explained. "They are coming to make sure I don't get lost on my way to the meeting in this … maze of caves."  
  
To his surprise, the ranger's eyes grew wide and he began to laugh heartily. Still chuckling, Aragorn gained his feet and slowly walked him over to the door.  
  
"Oh, Seobryn, you still have much to learn," he grinned, placing a hand on his shoulder as the boy began to once again fiddle with his garments. "Stop it, you look fine. Just be yourself, and everything will be alright. Every tradesman can count himself lucky to gain you as an employee."  
  
The younger man looked at him gratefully and took a deep breath.  
"Thank you, Strider. For everything."  
  
Aragorn smiled at him.  
"You are welcome. And my friends call me Estel."  
  
"Do you mean that … that I am your friend?" Seobryn asked, flabbergasted. He had expected much, but certainly not to be offered the hand of friendship by a man who had been the captive of him and his companions only a month ago.  
  
"If you want to," Aragorn replied, nodding his head.  
  
"Then I am your friend, Estel," Seobryn replied, his tongue nearly stumbling over the unfamiliar name, grasping the ranger's offered hand.  
  
The other human grinned and took the last steps into the direction of the door.  
"Well, my friend, here is my first piece of advice: Never, and I mean never, under no circumstances tell a wood-elf that his home resembles a cave. Never. The reactions can range from mere indignation to disbelief to murderous intentions."  
  
Seobryn only stared at him with wide eyes, asking himself if all rangers were as strange as this one. He was still pondering this when the door opened and an elf showed him the way to his meeting with the merchant from Lake-town.  
  
As they were just nearing the courtyard where his – hopefully – future employer was overseeing the unloading of his merchandise, he decided that Stri… Estel was probably a special case.  
  
But, after all, it wasn't his fault. The ranger had lived most of his life with the elves, and judging by what he had seen from his adopted family and friends, that was more than enough to turn anyone strange.  
  
  
  
  
Adruran shook his head as he left his lord's quarters. This was most displeasing; he hadn't wanted another assignment, and in his opinion the whole matter sounded more than a little bit risky. The whole operation was a lot too close to the wood-elves' realm, and their king wasn't known for looking kindly on things such as they had planned.  
  
The tall man straightened his shoulders and walked swiftly down the corridor, barely noticing how the servants flattened themselves to the walls to avoid getting caught in his path.  
He couldn't change his liege's mind on this matter. This was something the other had dreamt about for far too long, for so long that successfully carrying out his ancestors' plans had become an obsession to him. And even if it had been a possibility, he knew that he was neither brave nor insane enough to challenge his lord's plans.  
  
'Well,' he thought as he entered the busy courtyard, 'I might as well make the best of it.'  
  
"Sir?" one of his men had spotted him and was approaching him, curiosity on his face. "Are we leaving again?"  
  
He nodded absent-mindedly, not slowing his purposeful walk.  
"Aye, we are. Get the others ready. We leave in three hours."  
  
"Where to, sir?" the other asked.  
  
Adruran stopped and looked the other in the eye, suppressing a tired sigh.  
"West," he finally said. "To the Long Lake and beyond, if we are successful."  
  
The man looked at his superior in confusion before he nodded carefully and ran off to find his companions.  
  
The tall man looked after the other, wondering for a moment why he had said that. _Of course_ they would be successful, and if not, they would die in the attempt to get what their liege wanted.  
  
That was the way things were, Adruran thought as he made his way towards the stables to prepare his horse, and the way things had always been around here.  
  
And that certainly wouldn't change in the near future.  
  
  
  
  
  
**TBC...  
  
  
  
_  
_** _ada - father (daddy)  
mainkar - trader, tradesman  
mellonamin - my friend  
  
  
  
  
_***points proudly* As you can see, this is NO cliffy! But, dear friends, do not despair, for the next chapter is fast approaching, and there we have a nice little... Uhm, I didn't say anything! Really! So: I will write NO cliffies, none whatsoever, and ch 3 won't have one either. Promise! *cackles evilly* Mhahaha, I'm evil.... *g* But still: Would you please review? It would make me so unbelievably happy! And it just _might_ prompt me to post the next chapter on Wednesday... *winning smile* So, please?  
  
  
  
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_**Additional A/N:  
  
**Coreinha - *squeals* Thanks! You're my first reviewer! Thanks so much! So you want torture? _Why_ does everybody just assume that I'm going to write torture? *sighs* I have no idea... *g* And no, Elladan has already out that behind him, I think. I mean, it's been over 1 1/2 months now, and he DID dye Estel's hunting shirts, didn't he? *envious look* School's out? NOT FAIR!! Well, my term ends soon, too - I think mid-July... *grumbles*  
TrinityTheSheDevil - *huggles her* I'm so glad you like it! And well, yes, poor Estel. But, as I like to say, you just wait - things can always get worse, and, usually, they do. Uhm, okay, I'll leave you to your dancing, then.. *g* Thanks for the review!  
Halo - *trying to extricate herself from Halo* Thanks - me - glad - too... Well, I have to admit, Legolas has a point there - after all, you are dangerous and evil... *g* Well, co-writing a fic sounds at least interesting! But hey, I mean, we would have killed off everybody after a few chapters... *evil grin* Oh, you're evil, telling Elrond where they're hiding - that's definitely not nice! Now, I am so happy you like the beginning, all this is still new for me, so... Btw, did you get any autographs? If yes, I WANT TO SEE THEM!!! Please? Thanks for reviewing! *huggles her*  
Reginabean - *gives her weird look* Well - glad you like it so much when they get into trouble - you should love the rest, then... *evil cackle* Ah, we are evil... Well, I'm glad you like it so far - thanks for the review!  
Germstone - Oh, I wouldn't call it melancholy - ch 5 and ch 3 are melancholier I think (does that word even exist?)! *evil grin* Oh, and don't worry about not reviewing, as long as you send me MANY reviews now, I will forgive you! J/k, never fear... *g* Well, I will try to update frequently, but I can make no promises of course. But I still think every four days or so should be possible for the next few weeks... Thanks for de-lurking and reviewing! *huggles her*  
Nilbrethiliel - Mae govannen yourself! *g* Awww... danke! Aber an Thundera Tiger, Ilthilien, Jocelyn oder Littlefish kaeme ich nie ran, auf jeden Fall nicht in Englisch. Da fehlt einfach das richtige 'feeling', ist nicht zu machen... *g* Oh, und keine Angst wegen der Plotbunnies, die haben sich schon zur Genuege hier versammelt... zurueck, ihr Biester! Sind ganz schon hartnaeckig... *g* Du GEHST wirklich zu VL? Wow, da bist du aber emsiger als ich, ich meine, einmal eintragen und das war's dann... *g* Oh, und das mit dem suffering laesst sich sicher irgendwie manchen... *evil grin*  
Xsilicax - *jumps for joy too* I missed you guys so much! All this is _so much_ fun!! Uhm, 'nasty things'? In my stories? Why, miss, I'm hurt! Never! I only write nice, fluffy fics, never something 'nasty'... *g* Well, as I say in the A/N, there will probably no golden haired beauties in here (well, except Tranduil and Legolas of course!), but perhaps in the next fic. We'll see. I'm so glad you like it! Thanks!  
Mbali - Yay! Another review from Mbali! *g* Awww... *blushes* Thanks! I really hope the rest of the chapters will be as good as the first, I'll do my best! Thank you so much for the review!  
Lizeth - Oh, you're not the only one - I love writing the 'family interaction', really. Elrond, the twins and Estel are just adorable, aren't they? Yay, I'm one of your favourites? Thanks so much! *huggles her*  
Kirsten - Yeah, I like Elrond too! I would love to a father like that, but, alas, RL interfered... But somhow I always thought Elrond would be like this. But hey, he IS a powerful, millennia old elf lord after all... *g* Well, for the angst: We'll only have a little bit here and there for the next few chapters, but there'll be more in the future, I promise!  
E - E! Hey, great to see you again! *huggles her* Yes, I agree, Estel is a horrible patient. But hey, he's young and impatient and bored out of his skull... *g* Great you like the beginning, thanks for reviewing again!  
Nell Marie - Uhm, thanks! I mean, there was no real action - and that will only start in ch 3 - but I'm glad you like it! Besides, Estel & Co. need a little rest once in while... *g* Thanks for reviewing!  
Sr - AMEN! You are absolutely right, of course - but you know Estel and his guilt trips and all that... Sometimes I really think the boy needs a psychiatrist... *g* And he will talk about them - not in the near future though, but he will. Don't worry. But thanks for telling him! *g*   
Firnsarnien - Glad you like 'sequel'-sequels, 'cause that's what I love best, too! I always want to see as little time in between stories as humanly possible... *g* Yes, you could definitely add "Poor Hithrawyn" to "Poor Elrond" and "Poor Thranduil" for having to put up with all four of them! Well, yes, _of course_ the character will cause some trouble, but you're right, it would be very boring indeed otherwise, wouldn't it? Oh, I'm glad to have you back, too! *huggles her* _  
_Alilacia - Hi! *hugs her* Great to 'see' you! Well, I don't think Estel will be very impressed by you shaking a fist at him when he wasn't impressed by Elrond's _look_! *g* Oh no, Hithrawyn isn't nuts! He's merely a little bit stressed, nothing more! As would YOU be if you had to put up with Estel, Elladan, Elrohir _and_ Legolas... Well, _he_ is of course the mysterious villain/evil overlord/resident megalomaniac-who-tries-to-take-over-ME. *shrugs* No one special, really... *g* Thanks for reviewing again!  
Mouse - Hello! The insane Aussie is back again! J/k! Great to 'see' you! *huggles Mouse* *grins* Ah well, let's just say that poor Hithrawyn is a little bit stressed right now, shall we? I really hope you'll enjoy the rest! Thanks for not forgetting all about me!  
Ciria - *grins sheepishly* I guess you are right, it makes him even more adorable! So, after the insane Aussie there comes the insane Finn, huh? Great to see you! *huggles Ciria* Even after I killed your Nólad, which I still regret, really. But it had to be done. *g* Yeah, I love Glorfindel as well, our mighty balrog-slayer. So, perhaps I'll put him into the next fic. We'll see. Oh, Glor threatened to do the usual ... dismemberment ... leaving Elrond alone with an angry balrog ... the usual, really. Oh, and btw, it's "glad" if you mean somebody's happy about something. If you write "clad" you usually mean you are wearing something like clothes, so e.g. "clad in a red blouse" or something. Yupp, I agree, never make an elven lord angry. That was the one mistake Cornallar and Donyc made. *shrugs* Serves them right. And, last but not least, a spade is a shovel. The one you use to break up the earth before starting to dig. Okay, thanks for reviewing!!  
Lina - LINA! *huggles her* I missed you! And hey, it wasn't long! Only a month! But I'm so glad you're happy now... *eyes her dance fearfully* Very glad... ROTFL! Elrond's 'erotic' behaviour, huh? Shame on you for thinking such thoughts! *backs away* Jamaican braids? Just what kind of pills did you take? And where can I get some? *g* LOL!!! Smilrond!!!!! That is _the_ word creation of the century!!! *pulls Lina off of Estel* Lina! He is still weak! Do you want to kill him? You can't just walk around jumping into his arms! Not for at least ... three more chapters, okay? *sighs* Éomer!! ÉOMER!!!! She is doing it again! KEEP HER AWAY FROM MY VILLAINS, FOR CRYIN' OUT LOUD!!! *shakes head* That useless excuse for a Rohir...  
Cicci - *grins evilly* Yes, you might be correct there. You know, some people have even claimed that I'm obsessed with cliffies. Which I am not. Not really. Besides, it's all my alter ego's fault. She makes me write them, and the torture scenes and all that ... other stuff. The evil bits are all her doing... *g* Thanks so much for your kind words!  
Zam - Wohooo! Another orc horde party! Thanks so much! *huggles Zam and orc horde* *accusing look* You too? I mena, come on! A month is hardly long!! *giggles* No, Hithrawyn (see, I types that in a second! It's not so hard, really! *g*) isn't crazy - only incredibly annoyed... *huggles Celylith* No, I wouldn't forget about him! I love him! *raises eyebrow* Celly? Oh, that sound so-not-right... Curse you! *grabs Halo's hammer of doom and chases after Zam* You just squashed my characters with an eighteen wheeler! Come back here! Uhm, the bad guy hasn't done anything yet! You _cannot_ hate him without reason! Oh, and: The last review was ... special? LOL, it was great, really! I had almost forgotten how nuts you really are. Thanks for reminding me!! *g*  
ManuKu - Manu! *umarmt sie* Na, schoen dich zu sehen! Und danke der Nachfrage, ich habe mich schon ganz gut eingewoehnt - obwohl ich immer noch einen Mitbewohner suche. Ist ganz schoen schwierig, jemanden zu finden, der sich mit meinen Macken abgibt... *g* Oh ja, DSL isg schon was schoenes - anders ginge es eh nicht, ich waere Pleite innerhalb von ner Woche... *guckt beschaemt zu Boden* Ach, es war doch gar nicht so viel Drama das letzte Mal, oder? Ich meine, nicht wirklich, und das mit Nólad tut mir ja auch leid... Ihr wollte Elrond weh tun? Wann? Wann? Will ich sehen!! *auf und ab huepf* Okay, das war jetzt nicht normal... *g* Ich versuche natuerlich, wie immer so schnell wie moeglich zu updaten, dessen sei versichert! Danke vielmals fuer die review!  
Kaeera - Uhm das mit dem Fesseln - ich bin irre? Ich glaube, das hilft... *die vor Glueck strampelnde Kaeera anguck* Nun ja, das kommt aber alles erst in ch 4 und 5, ok? Also musst du noch ein kleines bisschen warten... Oh bitte, du nicht auch noch! Bitte schreib keine die-Zwillinge-treffen-die-Frau/Elbin/Hobbit- ihrer-Traeume! Das waere zu viel fuer mich, fuerchte ich... *g* 5 LKs? Ich hatte nur 2+2 Pruefungsfacher, und das hat auch gereicht, danke! *umarmt Kaeera* Danke fuer die review!! Und update mal bald!  
ThE iNsAnE oNe - Uhm, they all sound very happy to see me, don't they? *evil cackle* *ready the review* Are you alright? You sound kind of ... stressed, somehow. I don't knowm it's just a thought... *g* Well, if "Gwannath Annaeth" is for a future fic, then you shouldn't mention it now! It's evil and sadistic! BUT I could forgive you if you update ITB or TMAATB OR posted the next story NOW! Think about it!  
Miss Understood - *shakes head* How could I ever forget you!? I mean, really! You are the only Seobryn-fan out there, I think! Well, don't hyperventilate here, breathe in ... breathe out ... breathe in ... breathe out .... *g* *evil laugh* Ah well, I love evil little mysterious endings! They (and cliffies) are so much fun! Well, I'm glad you like it so much, and yes, Seobryn will be in this quite a lot. He is in this chapter, yay!!  
Aratfeniel - *grins back* Well, that is the logical choice, isn't it? Hiding where no one would be stupid enough to look? I will definitely keep writing, I really jope you will like the rest as well! Thanks for reviewing!  
CrazyLOTRfan - You too! It's not 'finally'! I mean, it's been only a month! That's not long, is it? *g* Not too long, anyway... Great you like it though, thanks so much for reviewing again!  
CalliTrakand - *blushes* Thanks a lot. It was my very first story and I love if if poeple say they love it - huh? What kind of sentence was that? Just ignore me, will you... Thanks so much for your kind words, and I really hope you'll enjoy the rest as well!  
Arwen-Evenstar - Well, I hope you'll like this story as much as the last one, but you never know. *hits herself* Gotta stop being so pessimistic! Anyway, I'm glad you like it thus far! Thanks for the review!  
Marbienl - *nods* See? This is the length a chapter should have, not 1 1/2 pages! That's just plain cruel! *giggles* Well, can't you understand Hithrawyn? I mena, really, Estel AND the twins AND Legolas AND Celylith? That's just too much! Well, the spider doesn't exactlly like elves or men or ANYONE, but we'll elran more about that in the next chapter. LOL! You're right, wargs just _might_ ne right ones for the job... About the nightmares: We'll see later what they are about, but let me give you a tip: Three weeks ago = fun time with Donyc and Cornallar = tiny little caves = general feeling of unhappiness? That's more than enough for nightmares, I think... And he _will_ talk about them, but not now. He's stubborn, you know... *g* Thanks for the long review!  
NaughtyNat - *blushes* Thanks for saying that! It was my first fic, and so it makes me very happy if you like it. *evil grin* You're right, I like to see him tortured as well - we are sick people, aren't we...Well, I definitely like the ranger better, but Legolas is cute too! Well, C&S didn't really stela him, we just happened to use the same name, which in turn was because we use the same name generator. Not all my names are generated, but this one unfortunately was. And no, I donÄt feel angry, it's not as if I have a copyright or anything! What elf? You mean Glónduil? Goodness no! Of course not! I mean, Glónduil may be an idiot, but he isn't evil! Don't worry, it's not him! Thanks so much for the review!  
Salara - *rot werd* Na ja, wir werden ja sehen, wie das alles so wird. Das ist ja das Interessante, wenn man eine Story posted, bevor man sie ganz fertig hat, man weiss nie, wie das ganze ausgehen wird... *g* Ja, ich liebe mysterioese Hints usw., da kann ich einfach nicht widerstehen... *seufz* Ich weiss, ich bin krank. Ach, und was Celylith angeht: Er ist die Ausnahme, die die Regel bestaetigt, nehme ich an. Ein schwarzes Schaf sozusagen... *g* Und mit dem Futter: Wird alles im neachsten Kapitel behandelt, in dem man eine ganze Menge von unserer Lieblingsspinne sieht! DANKE fuer die review! *umarmt Salara*  
Gwyn - *grins* This soon enough? Thanks for reviewing!  
Alexa - Hi! Nice to 'see' you! Well, to be perfectly honest: I don't know yet. Perhaps your elfling, if you go by the frequency and numbers of injuries, but I'm not sure yet about the severity... *evil cackle* You are right, It IS an interesting picture: Legolas jumping out of the window to escape the Lord of Imladris' wrath... *giggles* Funny. More Legolas coming up, but there will be much more of him in the next chappie. Thank you for the review!  
Aurienia - Hey! I was just about to post this when I saw your review! Thanks! *huggles her* Well, the evil guy ... I'm not telling! No I'm not! You have your exams now? Poor you! I do hope this chapter cheers you up a little... *grins at Elrond* Moi? I'm not doing anything to them, it's always the bad guys - and my alter ego...  
  
***huggles all reviewers* Thanks so much! You inspire and encourage me and and and... *takes a deep breath* Thank you.**  
  
  



	3. Tangled Webs

**Disclaimer: **For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.  
  
  
**A/N:  
  
*g* Yeah, well, the wine incident was quite funny... (Thranduil: Was not! Elrond: Oh, do be quiet! We didn't force you or anything!)  
Unfortunately, I cannot tell you what _exactly_ they have done, they refused to tell me. And believe me, I tried, but I think they'd rather let themselves be cut into tiny little pieces and fed to a cave troll than tell me... *shrugs* They are a little bit shy, I guess...  
  
Yes, Wilwarin IS an adorable little spider, and this chapter we will see quite a lot of her and Celylith. More than everybody else would like, actually... *evil grin*  
  
This chapter is a little bit more serious than the other two; we have a little bit of Legolas angst and a little bit of Thranduil/Elrond angst (not what YOU think, for cryin' out loud!), a fact which I solely blame on the TTT soundtrack. Never hear songs such as "The Leave Taking" or "Isengard Unleashed" while writing fanfics. It doesn't exactly create a ... cheerful mood. *g***  
  
  
**Very well, on to chapter 3, which is this story's first cliffy! Yay me! *readers growl and begin to take out various weapons, sharp tools, etc.* BUT it's not as bad as many others in "AEFAE", so don't worry. We also ****have ****lots about the little spider, a little bit about demon-horses and very anxious fathers.** **Oh, and did I mention a cliffy? *grabs her pink earmuffs and runs away cackling evilly*  
  
Enjoy and review, please!**  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Chapter 3  
  
  
'To the left, idiot, to the left!' an insistent voice in his head screamed, and with a silent curse Aragorn obeyed, crouching low and rolling to the left to escape the silver gleaming blade that cut through the air just above his right shoulder. He quickly gained his feet again and brought his sword up in front of him, retreating slowly to buy himself some more time to catch his breath. His wrists hurt, as did some of his ribs, but he resolutely ignored his body's discomfort.  
  
'And just for how much longer do you think you can keep him at bay?' the voice said, raising a mental eyebrow in amusement. 'If you're really lucky, I think it will be … half a minute?'  
  
The young ranger growled annoyed.  
  
"Then why don't you come out and take over the fight?" he asked, for the moment oblivious that he was talking to himself.  
  
His opponent threw a confused glance at him.  
"What?"  
  
Aragorn ignored the question and attacked, feinting to the left, but the other quickly realised what his intentions were and pushed him back.  
  
Before any of them could make another move, a voice interrupted their fight.  
  
"Elrohir! Stop it! Can't you see that Aragorn's ready to drop any second now?"  
  
As if on cue the two brothers lowered their weapons, turning into the direction of the voice.  
  
"I am not, Legolas!" the human protested, running a from the exertion slightly shaking hand over his face, wondering about the amount of perspiration that had somehow accumulated on his brow. Before his little encounter with Cornallar and his men he could have gone on like this for at least another half an hour before tiring this much.  
  
Legolas rolled his eyes as he idly ran his fingers over the fletchings of an arrow whose tip he had just sharpened.  
"Oh, please, of course you are and…"  
  
"He is right, Estel. I should have noticed, I'm sorry," Elrohir apologised, cutting the prince off and sheathing his sword as he stepped closer to his human brother. "Why don't you sit down?"  
  
Aragorn turned dark, reproachful eyes on his elven friend.  
"See what you've done."  
  
The prince just grinned down at him from where he sat on top of a pole that was used for teaching different sword moves to the novices. Any human would look ridiculous up there, Aragorn mused darkly, but Legolas just looked his usual, graceful self. How it could be comfortable though was a mystery to him. Then again, _his_ race didn't sleep in trees either.  
  
"I mean it, Estel," Elrohir repeated and pressed the young human down on a bench just to the left of Legolas' pole. "You have done well today, for the first sparring match in months. But it won't help any if you collapse from exhaustion now. Father might decide to stay here after all, and I think the news that Elladan and I were staying would be enough to push poor Hithrawyn over the edge."  
  
His young brother grinned at that. Elrohir was probably right there, the only thing that seemed to prevent the master healer from going insane was the fact that the twins were leaving the day after tomorrow.  
He absent-mindedly rubbed his wrists as he remembered his brothers' faces when their father had told them that there was absolutely no way they would be allowed to stay as well.   
  
  
_"I couldn't do that to them!" Elrond exclaimed, looking scandalised at the mere thought. "Hithrawyn and the other healers ... King Thranduil ... Mirkwood itself ... definitely not, my sons! We need the wood-elves as allies, not enemies!"  
  
"Ada!" Elladan complained, "We are not that bad!"  
  
Elrond just looked at his oldest and raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Let me phrase it like this, my sons – and you two as well," he nodded into the direction of Legolas and Celylith who were keeping back a little, grinning broadly at the identical look of indignation that Aragorn and his elven brothers wore, "If Sauron ever does something truly unforgivable – and I do not mean trivialities such as trying to conquer all of Middle-Earth – I will allow all five of you to pay him a visit. After a week he will come crawling to the front door of the Last Homely House, begging for mercy! I would wager he'd even be willing to trade in all of the úlairi to get rid of you."  
  
The Lord of Rivendell gave a mock shudder.  
"It would have to be a terrible transgression though, not even the Dark Lord deserves that..."  
  
"Father!!" the three of them exclaimed with wide eyes.  
  
Elrond gave them a quick smile before turning serious again.  
"The answer remains the same: Elladan and Elrohir will accompany me home while Estel will remain here for the winter and follow in the spring as soon as the weather permits. And that is final."_  
  
  
"Are they hurting again?" Elrohir's softly spoken question brought him back to reality.  
  
The young ranger looked up from where he had been rmassgaing his hands and quickly shook his head.  
"No. No, I was just thinking."  
  
Legolas hopped down from his seat, landing soundlessly on the stone tiles that covered this remote corner of the courtyard. He leaned his refilled quiver against the stone bench and turned to his friends.  
  
"Let me see, Strider," he demanded, grabbing the human's left wrist.  
  
Aragorn opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again without having said a word. Legolas was far stronger than he was, and if the blonde elf wanted to inspect his wrists, then he would do it, no matter how much he assured him that they were fine. He rolled his eyes as his friend gently turned his hands palms-up; sometimes it could be really annoying how much his family and Legolas fretted over him when he was injured.   
  
'Ha', he thought, 'The next time he is hurt, I will make sure he knows exactly what being mothered to no end feels like!'  
  
The fair haired elf lightly touched the slowly fading scars that wound round the ranger's wrist. When they had finally got to Aragorn, he had been tightly bound for over a week, because his captors hadn't wanted to take the risk of untying him for even a second after an escape attempt. By the time they had tried to get the bonds off him, they had cut into the flesh of the man's wrists and forearms so deeply that it had taken Lord Elrond quite a long time to loosen them. The result had been that Estel hadn't been able to really hold anything on his own for about a week, and the wrists were still weak and hurt.  
  
"_Ada_ said the scars would disappear completely in a few weeks," Elrohir said softly, "And your wrists haven't taken any permanent harm. Just give it time."  
  
"I know, I know," Aragorn sighed, trying to twist his hands out of Legolas' grip and shooting him a dark glare the other didn't even seem to register when he failed. "It's just frustrating." He gave Legolas another look before turning back to his elven brother. "Why don't you go and see where Elladan and Celylith are with the 'sweet little spider's' lunch? We'll wait here."  
  
Elrohir gave his fair haired friend a quick glance and nodded at his brother, disappearing quickly into the direction of the palace.   
  
"Legolas?" Aragorn asked when the younger twin had passed out of earshot, "What is it? And could I possibly have my hands back now?"  
  
Legolas' head shot up and he quickly released the human's wrist.  
"Forgive me, _mellonamin_, I was in thought."  
  
"And where exactly were you?" Aragorn prompted, giving him a slight smile that was not returned.  
  
Legolas didn't say anything for a while before admitting softly,   
  
"Back in that forest in the little clearing where I left you in Cornallar's hands without doing anything to help you."  
  
The young man shook his head, suppressing a shudder of fear that raced down his spine when the elf's name was mentioned. He really didn't want to remember him or Donyc, the commander of the humans Cornallar had hired to help him capture him...   
Aragorn blinked quickly, returning to the present. Elladan had warned him that something like this might happen, that Legolas wouldn't be able to easily put behind him that he had left his best friend behind, as he saw it…  
  
"You didn't know I was there, Legolas," he said slowly, closely eyeing his friend. "And how could you have? Cornallar may have been insane, but he wasn't stupid, he knew exactly what he was doing. You had no reason to suspect that I was in the camp and besides, you were injured. You weren't thinking clearly."  
  
His friend bowed his head at his words and his fair hair fell forwards over his shoulders, framing his face with soft golden tresses.  
"I did. I was."  
  
"What do you mean?" Aragorn questioned, his forehead wrinkling in confusion.  
  
Legolas slowly raised his head again and looked him in the eye.  
  
"I _was_ suspicious," he said, his usually bright eyes dark with self-accusation, "I suspected Donyc kept something from me; I just didn't know what it was. I should have known they weren't hunters, I should have known what they were up to, I … I should have done something, _anything_. But I rode on, and left you there. Had I only done something, everything would have been different, and you would probably be in a much better shape than you are now. It is all my fault. I should have known."   
  
For a moment the young human was just stunned by his friend's statement, but he quickly recovered and shook his head vigorously.  
  
"Legolas, what are you talking about?" he asked, grabbing the elf's forearm and shaking him lightly. "This doesn't make any sense!" He shook his head when Legolas made a move to say something and added, "Now you listen to me for a second, you stubborn elf!"  
  
He put a finger under his friend's chin and raised his head until their eyes met.  
"First, you were delirious. Elladan has told me everything about your memorable arrival in Rivendell, and as a qualified healer I can assure you that you were _not_ thinking clearly.   
Second, if you really had noticed anything, Donyc would have killed you. I heard them talking about it, Cornallar told him not to harm you until he had no other choice, but if you found out something, he was authorised to shoot you. And in the condition you were in, he would have succeeded.  
Third, nothing would have been different. The only thing Donyc wanted was to break me, and he would always have found an excuse or opportunity to try exactly that, believe me, Legolas.  
And Forth, this – was – not – your – fault. Nothing of it was. You saved my life, once again. You shouldn't have known, you couldn't have known, and I have thanked Ilúvatar many times that you didn't. I choose hurting wrists over a dead friend at any time."  
  
Slowly, very slowly the prince's face broke into a smile as he accepted what his friend had said.  
  
"If it were only your hands…" he began, but stopped quickly when he noticed the long-suffering look Aragorn gave him. "Peace, my friend, I have heard your words. Thank you."  
  
"No," Aragorn said, giving the elf's arm a squeeze before letting go of him, "Thank _you_, Legolas."  
  
Legolas only nodded, still smiling at the ranger who noticed with satisfaction that some of the guilt and pain in the blonde elf's eyes had disappeared. It would take the other a while to really believe that he was truly not at fault and that no-one blamed him, but in the end he would.  
  
'Elves,' Aragorn smiled inwardly, 'Always so keen to take all the blame on their shoulders…'  
  
At this point a hushed conversation met their ears which chased the sombre mood away in an instant.  
  
"Where is the boy? I thought you wanted to ask him if he wanted to come as well? You know Estel would be happy if he came, the boy's leaving in two weeks after all."  
  
"And that's a very good thing if you ask me, Elrohir. If he hadn't been accepted as an apprentice and would have had to remain here, I think he would have gone insane. I _have_ asked him, by the way, but all he did was stare at me as if I was about to eat him, shake his head, slowly back away and slam the door in my face."  
  
A muffled snicker could be heard.  
  
"Well, but I still don't understand what took you so long, brother. It can't be so hard to get enough meat from the kitchens for a giant spider, can it?"  
  
"Hush, Elrohir!" Celylith's voice hissed softly, "Do you want anyone to overhear us?"  
  
"Frankly? Yes."  
  
"Careful, Elrondion, careful," Celylith threatened. "If anyone finds out about Wilwarin because you couldn't keep your voice down, I will not rest until I have located her mother and set her on you."  
  
"And we wouldn't want that," Elladan's snickering voice interjected, "I would not only lose my dear twin brother but a treasured pet as well! It would be a tragedy indeed if anyone found out that the noble Lord Celylith, captain of one King Thranduil's guards, is keeping a giant, ugly, hairy, black, malicious, ill-tempered, in short, a perfect, adorable spider as his pet!"  
  
Right then the three of them rounded the corner, and Legolas' grin widened when he saw the mock fury on his friend's face who couldn't do anything but glare at the brothers because he was carrying various very heavy-looking bags that were obviously filled with Wilwarin's lunch.  
  
"Shhh, Elladan!" the silver haired elf said a little louder this time, scowling at the older twin. "Not so loud! If I weren't carrying all this, I would hurt you for talking about her like that."  
  
"She is a spider, Celylith!" Legolas said, rising to his feet and pulling his human friend with him who quickly masked his grin when Celylith shot him a dark glare. "A spider whose family is coming ever closer if one can believe the sentries!"  
  
His elven friend gave him a hurt look while they were quietly making their way out of the gates to a remote, half-forgotten shack that had served as a barn some decades ago and that was far enough away from the palace to guarantee that no-one stumbled over the elf's little 'butterfly'. By now Aragorn wondered how such an encounter would end, since Wilwarin was now big enough to eat anyone unfortunate to cross her way unprepared.  
  
"That is hardly fair, my lord," the elf complained, tightening his hold on the bags when they threatened to slip out of his grasp. "There is no proof that the increased spider activity is connected to Wilwarin in any way."  
  
Legolas rolled his eyes while they directed their steps down the half-overgrown path that led to the shack.  
  
"Well, let me see," he began, frowning in mock concentration. "It began about three weeks ago, that is only a few days after we arrived here with her, and it has been getting worse ever since. Really, Celylith, what other reason could there be? And don't tell me the spiders just want to play a little with our warriors!"  
  
Noticing Aragorn's unbelieving look, he added, "He claimed that once when a dozen of them were about to have us for dinner."  
  
"I am sure we would have found a way to communicate if you hadn't shot the last one of them, Legolas!" the silver haired elf insisted.  
  
"That spider was about to eat you, my friend!" Legolas exclaimed, ignoring his now openly laughing friends from Rivendell.  
  
"That's what _you_ think," Celylith replied curtly. "Besides, there is no way they could have followed my tracks back here, I didn't touch anything besides that branch."  
  
"Was it part of the nest?" Elladan asked slightly alarmed, fighting off a renewed fit of giggles.  
  
"Only of the little one Wilwarin had built for herself, and you should have seen it! It was perfect; she is such a very clever little spider…"  
  
The three brothers and Legolas traded a helpless look. You couldn't tell Celylith anything about spiders, it was just a waste of time to try and reason with him.  
  
"But, Celylith," Aragorn began, carefully choosing his words, "I know I am very young and un-experienced, especially concerning things in Mirkwood, but I do seem to remember that spiders can have an exceptional sense of smell. And if you touched that branch, especially after taking one of their young, the whole colony will take up the scent and follow you, you know that. From what I've heard females don't take kindly to people who try to snatch one of their offspring."  
  
"I didn't snatch her!" the elf protested, putting down the bags and taking out the key to the small hut they had reached by now. "I just couldn't leave her there all alone! Something could have eaten her!"  
  
Elrohir snickered again.  
"Uhm, Celylith, _spiders_ are the ones that eat other things here. She would have been the menace to others, not the other way round."  
  
Celylith glared at the highly amused twins.  
"And what about wargs? A warg could eat a baby spider! Even a wolf could! Or a troll!"  
  
"You are right, _mellonamin_, it was your duty to protect it," Legolas said quickly and laid a hand on the irate elf's shoulder. Celylith took such remarks personal.  
  
"Wilwarin's not an 'it', Legolas, she's a she," his friend growled quietly and pushed the door open. "How would you like it if someone called you 'it' and 'the elf' all the time?"  
  
Legolas didn't answer for he was far too busy fighting the urge to take one of the knives that hung in two leather sheaths on his belt and simply kill the spider that became visible now that the door swung open. Or kill Celylith if he didn't come to his senses soon, that still remained to be seen.   
He could feel the twins next to him stiffen and Aragorn take a deep breath. True, he mused dryly, if one didn't see it quite as often as he did, then the sight could be rather alarming.   
  
Celylith's sweet little spider was now at least five feet high and, with legs and all, about twice as wide. Four large, black legs could be seen on each side of its body, and the older it became, the more it began to become covered in black bristly hairs. The worst though were in the prince's opinion the eyes, the luminous compound eyes that were the most memorable part of its face. The rest of the space was covered with the large mouth and more pinchers than Legolas ever wanted to see at close quarters.  
  
The spider began hissing and screeching as soon as it set eyes on them, straining against the leash that wound round its neck and secured it tightly to the wall.  
"Wicked!! Wicked!! Nasty, evil elves, let me go! Nasty, wicked, nasty!!"  
  
Celylith took a step closer to it.  
"Don't worry, my little butterfly, it's only me! I've brought you some delicious bloody deer for lunch!" When the beast wouldn't calm down, he shot his friends a reproachful look. "See? You are scaring her! Get back a little!"  
  
Only too willingly the three elves and the human complied, eyes fixed unwaveringly on the spider that really seemed to quieten down a little once they retreated and was now busy tearing through the bags with its pinchers and claws to get to the meat.  
  
"These eyes…" Elladan muttered. "They just invite a knife, don't they?"  
  
"My thoughts exactly, my friend," Legolas replied, smiling nervously.  
  
"I never knew they grew the hair when they matured," Aragorn said, obviously fascinated against his will. "And I didn't know their eating habits were quite as disgusting," he added as the spider raised its head and hissed at them as if to challenge them to come closer, a piece of meat still dangling from its mouth.  
  
"Neither did I, little brother," Elrohir stated, unconsciously taking a step backwards and reaching for his sword he had left at the palace. "I have happily lived for more than 2800 years without that knowledge and I could have happily done without for another 2800." He shot Celylith a dark look. "Another thing I have to thank him for."  
  
"You have to do something, Legolas," Aragorn said, watching the silver haired elf that began to pat the spider's head now. Surprisingly, it didn't stop him, but that might have been because it was so busy grinding the bones of its meal. "Do something as long as we can still control it. Spiders aren't stupid, and it knows it's not yet strong enough to take on all of us. In a month or two that might be different though … and just think of what your father will say once he hears that his warriors are having that much trouble with the things because Celylith had to take one as a pet! We cannot deceive the others indefinitely, sooner or later someone will find out about all this…"  
  
All of them shuddered. King Thranduil probably wouldn't be too pleased.  
  
"You are right,_ mellonamin_," Legolas said grimly, watching as the spider raised its head and eyed his elven friend as if it was contemplating eating him next. "This has gone far enough. As long as if its presence threatened no-one else, it was tolerable, but I will not have it endangering my people. Celylith!" he called, giving him a stern look.  
  
"Yes, my lord?" he replied and stepped closer, neatly escaping a sharp claw that was trying to fasten around his ankle.  
  
"We need to talk, my friend. About_ it_."  
  
"You mean _her_."  
  
"That too, Celylith, that too."  
  
  
  
  
That same evening, Elrond was walking with King Thranduil through the king's gardens, admiring the sight the autumnal parks presented. Even though they had already shed most of their leaves, the trees were still beautiful, the branches dark and slim and stretching towards the heavens like giant fingers. This part of Mirkwood, the part right around the woodking's halls, was truly beautiful, a last memory of what the whole forest had looked like before Sauron in the guise of the Necromancer had taken up residence in Dol Guldur, far to the south of here.  
  
Quickly the Dark Lord's evil had spread throughout the once fair forest, and orcs, spiders and wargs began to multiply and harass the elves of Greenwood the Great. After only a few centuries the entire forest had fallen into darkness, its tress gnarly and bent, growing thicker and thicker as if to smother and suffocate all life that they could reach, the paths cutting through the wood like tunnels amidst a sea of hostile darkness. And the wood-elves had become suspicious and somewhat xenophobic, the foul things had turned the merry Silvan folk into warriors that were always hard-pressed to defend their home from the creeping darkness that sought to encroach them, even now that the tower was empty and Sauron gone.  
  
"I would very much like to know where your thoughts are, my friend," the king's melodious voice cut through his contemplations.  
  
Elrond turned from where he had stared into nothing and smiled sadly at the King of Mirkwood.  
"I was remembering, Lord Thranduil, remembering things that once were."  
  
Thranduil understood his guest's meaning almost instantly.  
  
"I do the same," he admitted softly, stepping up to the Lord of Imladris and looking over the gardens. "I come here often to listen to the trees and remember what once was. That what was when my father was still alive and our people carefree and safe. But it's no use," he said grimly, giving Elrond a resigned look. "There are things that will never come back, things that are never going to be like they were before."  
  
"Don't say that, Lord Thranduil," the dark haired elf to his left shook his head, "For not even the wisest of us can tell what the future will bring. A great storm is coming, and none knows what it will leave in its wake."  
  
The woodland king shook his head in disgust, his eyes dim with memories.  
"Death and pain, as these kinds of storms always bring. Destruction and loss for the younger races and suffering for the firstborn, for whatever will come to pass, the days of the elves are all but over. We will either leave these shores or stay and die where we have lived for so long."  
  
Elrond inclined his head, his face stony and sad.  
"We will need to fight once more for what we hold dear, your Majesty, and, Valar willing, for the last time before we can leave for the Blessed Realm. I for my part do not intend to desert Arda before I have seen Aragorn fulfil his destiny."  
  
"Neither do I," Thranduil replied and smiled thinly when he saw the surprise on the other elf's face. "I will not leave before I have witnesses him becoming the leader you tell me he will become, because you know as well as I do that Legolas will not follow unless he has made sure that _the Dúnadan_ will live in peace. And, Elbereth, I will not lose my only child to death or heartache, not if I can prevent it!"  
  
"We cannot make such choices for our children, I fear," Elrond replied solemnly, shaking his head. "I pray to all the Valar that I will not experience of what you speak, but I have the premonition that…"   
He took a deep breath and blinked, as if coming out of a deep trance.   
"However, these things are still in the future, and there they should remain for the time being, for we can do nothing to prevent them now. Besides, there is still the question whether or not they will even survive this winter."   
  
The golden haired elf laughed, gladly welcoming the direction the conversation was taking now.  
"I cannot guarantee for anything, my lord. As I said, trouble is never far behind when your sons and Legolas get together. And now that Estel is able to move around freely, I fear the worst. There is a tiny ray of hope though, and that is that you are leaving in a day. I meant no offence, my lord," he quickly assured the dark haired elf lord next to him who had raised an amused eyebrow.  
  
"None taken, _mellonamin_," Elrond smiled, inviting the king with a move of his hand to walk back towards the main building. "I know perfectly well of what you speak. I think the prospect of our now imminent departure is the only thing that has kept some of your people alive and sane, even though I think they haven't quite grasped the implications of the fact that I am taking only the twins with me."  
  
"They will learn quickly enough," Thranduil sighed as they walked up the garden path. "Oh, they will."  
  
"Come now, my lord, they are not that bad," Elrond said. "They are rather accident-prone, yes, but I do not think they are doing these things on purpose."  
  
"Do you have proof for that assumption?"  
  
"No," the Lord of Rivendell admitted, wrinkling his forehead in thought. "No, I don't, but I am willing to give them the benefit of the doubt."  
  
Thranduil laughed incredulously.  
"You are far too trusting, Lord Elrond! Let me tell you one thing I have learned during these past twenty-something centuries: Things are never as they seem, especially not with my son or yours."  
  
Elrond smiled slightly, stopping on the cobbled area just in front of the big window doors that led from one of the woodking's rooms to the gardens.  
"Then you will have to keep a close eye on them for me, my friend."  
  
Before the blonde elf at his side could reply, Galion, the king's butler, appeared in the doors, looking at them questioningly.  
  
"Pardon my intrusion, my lords, but do you know where your sons are? Hithrawyn is looking for Estel, I believe."  
  
"Isn't he in his quarters?" Elrond asked, slightly worried.  
  
"No, Lord Elrond," the butler replied, giving the two pained-looking elf lords a sympathetic look. "He is nowhere to be found, and neither are the Lords Elladan and Elrohir, Captain Celylith or Prince Legolas."  
  
Thranduil closed his eyes, trying to remember when he had seen them last. It had been about an hour ago, he decided finally, the five young ones had excused themselves after dinner… He sighed inwardly. He hadn't expected them to do anything before the twins had left.  
'That was your first mistake,' a chuckling voice inside his head told him, 'The second was not to chain the two of them to the walls of their rooms until the twins had left.'  
  
The golden haired king opened his eyes again and looked at his guest who had apparently come to the same conclusion as he had.  
  
"An hour is a very long time," Elrond stated calmly. "Judging by that mischievous sparkle in my sons' eyes I saw earlier, I would think that they have already left the grounds."  
  
"I think you are right, my lord," Galion sighed. Bowing slightly before the two of them, he added, "With your Majesty's permission I will go and ask the gatekeepers if they have left."  
  
The elven king nodded, trying to remain calm.  
"Please do that, Galion. And inform them also that I wish to see the prince and his companions in my rooms once they come back. No matter what hour it will be."  
  
The other elf nodded and, with a last look at his lord's stricken face, he turned and quickly walked back the way he had come. The way things were going, he mused as he closed the door behind him, it was going to be a long and very interesting winter.  
  
Elrond stifled a grin when he looked at his companion's slightly twitching face. Thranduil was really rather easy to incense.  
"Somehow, your Highness, I am having doubts whether or not you will be able to keep an eye on them on your own."  
  
"'Tis already too late for that, my lord, as you can see," the King of Mirkwood muttered as they were making their way inside the palace. "And this is only the beginning. May the Valar help us all."  
  
The Lord of Imladris hid his grin behind one hand and put the other comfortingly on the other elf's shoulder. He was so unbelievably glad that Aragorn and Legolas were staying in King Thranduil's house for this winter and not in his…   
With only the twins it would be almost peaceful, and if he could keep them inside the house, stopped them from going on any hunts, scouting trips or walks and locked away all sharp tools which could somehow cause any damage, they should be just fine.  
  
He would have liked to assure the king that he was sure that the five young ones weren't up to anything foolish and that everything would be just fine, but that would have been an outright lie.  
  
And one could say what one wanted about the Master of Rivendell, he did never lie, not even to comfort a so obviously despairing elf.   
  
  
  
  
A few miles to the south, the forest was dark and quiet, its stillness only interrupted by an occasional shuffle in the dark trees high above the grassy ground or the sounds of almost inaudible steps that soon disappeared in the distance.   
  
That quiet, however, did not last for much longer, for on a path that led further southwards there appeared a group of six beings, and it had been a long time since a more curious group had passed through here.  
  
It consisted of four elves and a human that talked quietly among each other and a giant spider that put up quite a fierce resistance while being dragged along with them. It really wasn't very happy with its current situation, judging by the almost continuous hissing that emanated from under the hood that was fastened on the beast's head.  
  
The group stopped for a second and one of the elves, with dark hair and an annoyed expression on his fair face, said exasperatedly,  
  
"If it doesn't stop that soon, I will kill it. Right now and right here, without even giving it a second thought."  
  
"I will gladly offer you my sword for this noble deed, brother," the human said, wiping his sweat-covered face with a dark shirtsleeve. "I still don't understand why we couldn't take a torch with us. I know you four don't have problems in the dark, but we humans are usually not able to see at night as clearly as in the light of day."  
  
The silver haired elf looked outraged at the elf that had spoken earlier.  
"Kill 'it'? Well, sons of Elrond, let me tell you one thing: If any of you harms as much as a single hair on Wilwarin's head, you will regret it."  
  
"I seriously doubt that," the dark haired elf's twin grinned. "The only thing I would regret would be not having taken off the whole head." He quickly took a few steps backwards to avoid the clout Celylith had aimed at him. "The answer to your question, Estel, is very simple: You just don't light fires in Mirkwood at night. Sometimes it's better not to see your surroundings clearly, believe me. What _I _don't understand is why we couldn't take any horses."  
  
At that the last member of the group grinned wickedly, his blonde hair shining like flowing silver in the sparse moonlight.  
"Well, Elrohir, I think I can answer that: First, because we could never have explained to the guards just why we wanted to take a walk with our horses, and second: Do I really need to explain to you what would happen if my horse saw you ever again?"  
  
The younger twin winced while the others broke out in laughter.  
  
"It's not a horse, it's a demon," he muttered under his breath. "It doesn't even have a name. May I suggest one? What about … let me think … '_Goroth_'?"  
  
Legolas' face darkened and he took a step closer to the dark haired elf, a threatening expression on his face that didn't seem to disturb the other in the slightest, for he only jumped behind Aragorn and continued.  
  
"No, that's doesn't sound quite right, what about '_Wethrinaer_'? Not bad, but 'Anca' is better, I think…"  
  
The young ranger tried to look at his elven brother who was hiding behind his back before fixing a pleading stare on his irate friend who was coming closer, obviously trying to figure out how to get to the other elf without hurting the human in the process.  
  
"'Jaws?'" he asked in confusion. "Why 'jaws'? It's a horse, not a bear, isn't it?"  
  
Legolas stopped in front of them, a malicious light shining in his eyes.  
"Didn't he tell you, Strider? Didn't your dear brother tell you just what happened in those caves? Well, if that's the case, I think it is my duty to enlighten you…"  
  
"Don't you dare, Legolas!" Elrohir said quickly, peeking out from behind his younger brother's shoulder. "I was just wondering why it didn't have a name, that's all."  
  
"It does have a name," Celylith interjected, patting the hissing spider to calm it some. "It's called Rashwe, that's at least what Legolas told me once we arrived back at the palace. But I have to admit I don't really understand what it has done to deserve that name. It always seemed to be quite a nice horse."  
  
Legolas nodded grinning. It wasn't uncommon to wait with naming a horse or weapon until a suitable name had presented itself, and after their little journey under the mountains, 'Trouble' seemed to be more than fitting indeed.  
  
Elladan laughed loudly while his twin grumbled,  
  
"A nice horse!? Rashwe, indeed! But I still think that Thaurer or Anca would have been a more fitting name."  
  
"Wait!" Aragorn demanded, thoroughly confused now. "What happened? You said it didn't like you, but why 'jaws'? You're an elf, which horse would not at least tolerate you?"  
  
Elladan put an arm around the ranger's shoulders.  
"'Tis a long tale, brother. It's sufficient to say that the demon-hor… I mean Rashwe," he amended quickly, smiling at Legolas' scowling face, "is a very special case. I will explain everything later."  
  
"Oh no, you won't!" Elrohir stated threateningly, glaring darkly at his brother.  
  
Legolas rolled his eyes.  
"Could we possibly go on now? I really do not want to spend the entire night out here."  
  
"Right," Celylith agreed. "Wilwarin might get scared with that horrible hood over her head."  
  
Elrohir shook his head unbelievingly while they walked down the dark path leading to the south.  
"She won't get scared, Celylith. She is a spider, spiders aren't afraid of the dark. And you know as well as I do that without that hood she would bring the whole forest down on us with her screeching."  
  
"She wasn't screeching, Elrohir!" Celylith complained, a hurt look in his dark blue eyes. "She was talking."  
  
"Talking?" Legolas repeated, arching an eyebrow in amusement. "Well, I think 'Nasty, wicked elves, nasty!', 'Let me go!' and 'Bad Leafie, bad Leafie, bad bad bad!' qualifies as screeching."  
  
The others chuckled at that, but were quick to hide their mirth when they looked at the prince's constantly darkening face. Aragorn had called Legolas 'Greenleaf' earlier today, which the spider had picked up quickly to swear at the elf, telling him repeatedly what a 'bad Leafie' he was, much to the ranger's amusement.  
  
"Is there something funny, Estel?" Legolas asked in a friendly tone of voice, pulling fiercely at his rope when Wilwarin once again refused to move.  
  
"No, not at all," Aragorn assured his friend and added after a moment, "Leafie."  
  
The fair haired prince ignored the laughing voices of his friends and trudged on. Oh, how he hated that spider! With the greatest of pleasures he would take his knives and simply…  
  
He was just envisioning all the things he wanted to do to Celylith's 'butterfly' when they reached a small clearing from which there led two paths into the dark woods, one to the south-west and one to the south-east.  
  
"Very well, _mellonamin_," he said and turned to his silver haired friend, "Which way now?"  
  
Celylith looked at him, a stubborn gleam in his eyes.  
"I still don't see why we have to abandon her! She wouldn't harm a fly, would you, Wilwarin?"  
  
The spider hissed and made a move as if to bite off the elf's hand through her hood before he quickly withdrew it.  
  
"No, she wouldn't harm a fly," Aragorn commented dryly. "But with an elf or a human, it's an entirely different thing."  
  
"And the answer is, my friend," Elladan spoke up, "That we are not 'abandoning' her. We are setting her free. She is a giant spider, not a pet!"  
  
"Why can't she be both?" Celylith asked persistently. "It's only in her nature to hiss and try to eat us. She doesn't know any better."  
  
Legolas sighed tiredly.  
"Because she is leading her colony right to the palace, Celylith. You have heard reports of the other warriors, there haven't been this many spiders near my father's house for several centuries! And I for my part do not want to wait until her mother comes looking for her, we should get rid of her as fast as possible."   
  
Legolas stopped as Aragorn tugged on his sleeve, silver eyes gleaming in the moonlight, fixed on something behind the elven prince's shoulder.  
  
"I think it is already too late for that," he said with forced calmness, eyes growing wider by the second.  
  
The four elves turned slowly around and froze instantly when they saw the silver threads that wound through the canopies of the trees and the many dark, hairy bodies that began to make their way down to the ground.  
  
Before the little group could retreat, the little glade filled with a mass of black, multi-legged creatures that stared at them with large, hungry, luminous eyes, but they were strangely silent, something which made the five young beings even more nervous.  
  
"You might be correct there, my friend," Legolas whispered wryly, his hands quietly nearing his quiver and his eyes darting from one potential target to the next.   
If they ever got out of this, he would kill Celylith, he promised himself darkly as he closed his left hand around the handle of one of his blades. He would simply kill him, and every sane person would understand his motives…  
  
The other four grabbed the hilts of their knives and swords tightly, looking at each other with grim eyes while the black flood rolled even closer, cutting off their escape and closing in on them, the bulky dark bodies seemingly swallowing the pale light of the moon that filtered through the trees and leaving them in darkness under the starless sky.  
  
  
  
  
  
**TBC...  
  
  
  
  
**  
_ada - father (daddy)  
úlairi - the Nazgûl, Ringwraiths  
mellonamin - my friend  
The Dúnadan - Chieftain of the Rangers (one of Aragorn's many titles)  
goroth - horror, dread  
wethrinaer - deceitful one  
  
  
  
  
_***rubs hands* Finally! A cliffy! I was beginning to think that I was ill or something - I have missed them sooo much! *evil laugh* Well, my friends, what will happen? Will the spiders eat our intrepid, uhm, quintet? Will Celylith let his little pet go? And will their fathers kill them IF they manage to escape? All this and much more will be revealed in the next post, coming up in a few days, the more reviews I get the sooner! So, please review? It's for your own good, you know! *g*  
  
  
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**Additional A/N:  
  
**Coreinha - You hop up and down, huh? Well, that's an interesting reaction, that much is sure... *g* As I said, they refused to tell me. BUT I have some wine here that could very well losen their tongues - so, just wait a little, perhaps I'll be able to tell you in a few decades! *g* *giggles with you* Yes, a drunk Elrond IS an interesting thought, but hey, the poor guy deserves some fun once in a while (about once every two millennia!), doesn't he?  
Xsilicax - Me too! I have the world's biggest arachnophobia! *grins sheepishly* Yeah, well, the wine incident... Let's just say part of it is personal experiance. A while ago, when the Extended DVD had just come out, a few friend and I decided to watch it and play a little drinking game. With Vodka. And it was, like, "Drink a shot every time the Ring is shown", or "every time Frodo looks around with those huge blue eyes of his", or "every time Merry and Pippin do something stupid". Ah, as you probably can imagine, we didn't last very long. I lasted longer than most, and after they get to Rivendell everything gets blurry even for me. *shrugs* I still can't remember much about that night, but I _think_ we ate cold rice at some point or other. No-one else can affirm that, but they don't know if it's wrong either... *g* Owwww.. *blushes* Thanks so much for the compliments! Huh? *confused look* "That" who was alright? I couldn't find that! Were is the mistake, come here precious, I'll find you... Thanks a lot for the review!!  
TrinityTheSheDevil - *grins* Perhaps I even will, one day. But I have to get them to tell what they did, I don't know myself. They are quite stubborn when they want to be, and Erestor can't remember anything. 'C' word? Which 'C' word? *clueless expression* Oh, you mean the cliffy? Come on, it's not that bad - there are worse yet to come! Mhahahaha! *evil cackle*  
Carrie - *glomps back* CARRIE! Nice to see you! Nope, they didn't want me "up there", they sent me back. Now I'm stuck here... *grins evilly* Right you are, m'dears, you are quite doomed. But I will have so much fun!! *hurt look* No, I don't want to bang them into trees! I'm not that uncreative! I have come up with new and exciting things to do to them! Mhahaha! Oh, yes, Hithrawyn is quite stressed right now, don't pay him any heed. He will be alright once the twins are back in Rivendell. I think. LOL, there is still hope! Indeed there is! but not much, Ara-kins, not much... *huggles Carrie* And YOUR reviews make me laugh! Besides, they make me sit in front of my computer, grinning like a maniac, but that's beside the point. Thanks so much for the loooong review!!  
Acacia - Ho! Acacia! *huggles her* Great to 'see' you! Yes, well, you might be correct there, there is much fun ahead - for us, but not necessarily for our intrepid duo... *evil grin* Yup. He probably SHOULD know better, but Thranduil _is_ a stupid blonde wood-elf, after all... Cliffy's here, don't worry! Since I know how much you LOVE them... *g*  
Mouse - *innocent puppy-dog eyes* Me? Planning? Why, nothing! I am not planning anything! This will be a nice, calm fic, nothing serious will happen, no violence, torture, caves - nothing! Mhahahaha! Well, you know, about the cliffy ... there is a tiny one here, nothing horrible, just a noce little... put down that sword, now! It's not _that bad_, is it?   
Alilacia - *g* Yeah, Celylith is quite ... unusual, for a wood-elf. (Elrohir: Insane! I'm telling you, he is three sandwiches short of a picnic!) YOu fear for Mirkwood's Halls? Me too, my friend, me too.... Well, 'this guy' is the guy the guy from the last chapter hired to do what he wanted. *frowns* Does that make any sense? Probably not... And yes, he will wreak some havoc, but I think that'll be another story to be told another day, or in another fic. We'll see.  
ThE iNsAnE oNe - Thranduil: Am not! *hic* Elrond: Righr, m'friendsch ischn't drrunck. Me neitscher. LOL, yup, the two are definitely a little inebriated... *g* ROTFL! Legolas and his friend Mulmu, huh? Now _that_ is interesting... So Nólad is now living with you, is he? Poor him, I really DO pity him - but then agian, I think it's better than having to spend an eternity with Cornallar in the Halls of Mandos... And he has a stuffed cat? O-kay, why not... Fine, now I will ask: WHAT IS A SQUARG? A mix between a warg and ? *grins a little* I kinda figured that Gwandath Annath is a future story, but still, it's EVIL to mention it now! But hey, whay did I expect anything else from you... *shrugs* Poor you, science finals? That IS bad, as bad as it gets... Thanks a lot for the huge review! *huggles her*  
Kaeera - Weiist du was? Nach Tolkiens Logik (eine betonte Silbe wie á ist das gleich wie aa, also Namárie ist gleich Namaarie) koennte man dich eigentlich auch Kaéra nennen - sieht doch auch chic aus, oder? Ignorier' mich, ich bin seltsam drauf... Puh! Keine weitere Mary-Sue-Schreiberin! Das ist beruhigend... *heult* Ha, reib Salz in die Wunde! Nein, ich habe X2 noch nicht gesehen, werde ich aber diese Woche! Und Matrix: Reloaded, uind beides in OV! Ich kann's kaum erwarten! *huepft auf und nieder* Ich? Angst schreiben? Wie kommst du senn darauf? *unschuldiger Blick* *grinst verschlagen* Was denkst du denn, fuer wen ich erwaehnte Szene eingebaut habe? Wann hast du Geburtstag? Vielleicht schaffe ich es ja, bis dahin eine kleine Story zu basteln... *g*  
Lina - Yeah, you're right - 'erotic' ... 'erratic' ... same difference... *g* So you like the "Harbinger of Doom"? I thought you might... *g* Not again! Get off the poor boy! I mean, really, Seobryn isn't even evil! He is officially Estel's friend, so you better behave yourself! *evil grin* Yeah, a drunk Thranduil is quite a sight, isn't he? You know what, somtimes I really pity Éomer, who is still riding 'hopelessly, pointlessly South'. Poor guy, really. I think one of these days he's going to lose it. No-one can endure so much torture and remain sane in the process... *g*  
Halo - *glomps back* Great to see you! And the pics I've already seen are just perfect! Really! I am soooooo jealous... Wow, so you've got a new obsession? The EKATOH? Uhm I haven't seen Matrix: Reloaded yet, but I will! Thurday or Friday! In English of course, there arwe movies (such as this one and LOTR) that you just can't watch in any other language... *snickers* That's exactly what I think every time! I mean, when Frodo regains consciousness in Rivendell and Elrond greets him, I always expect him to say, "Welcome to Rivendell ... Mr. Anderson!" Don't tell me, I'm weird...  
Nilbrethiliel - Okay, now you've got me thoroughly confused. English or German, you've got to make a decision, or what's left of my brain will implode right here, right now. I know, that's not really much anyway, but still ... I've grown quite attached to it, in a way. And I will have you know, ma'am, that I haven't written any real angst just yet. I mean, there will be some in this chapter and in chapter 5, but not yet. Hmmm, and in ch 6, and... *g* Yup, Seobryn'll definitely be in this story, I haven't quite decided to what extent, but he will play an important role. *pats his head* He is cute, isn't he? Okay, thanks for the review, whatever language you may prefer.  
Helen T - *grins evilly* Yes, poor Thranduil, you could say that. And OF COURSE they will all get into trouble, you could even say _because_ of Celylith... Thanks so much for reviewing! It really helps to keep writing!  
Zam - Yeah, well, you might have a point there. But then, I would have to write several prequels, and I can't write more than one story at a time. Perhaps after this one, we'll see. Uh-oh, now you've done it! Legolas has remembered the tree incident! *closes eyes* May your sould find peace in the Halls of Mandos. Haldir: *shrieks* She is NOT staying here! LOL, whatever... *winces as well* Poor Feanor. Lina can be quite ... forceful sometimes, huh? Estel: *rubs his chest* Tell me about it. Uhm, actually, it says in "The Hobbit" that Thranduil liked silver better, sorry. Thranduil: Ah well, okay, then I LIKE SILVER!!! *g* Yes, Celylith really likes Wilwarin very much, and we'll see quite a lot of them in this chappie. Well, another Nólad....I don't think so. Nólad was unique, I think. But we'll see. Maybe. *g*  
NaughtyNat - Glad you like it so much! Well, I try to update about every four or five days, if possible. No, don't be sorry for asking, initially I was quite cross with C&S, really! BUt it was an accident, they didn't do that on purpose - or so I hope! Thanks a lot for your review! They really help me! Yes, precious, they do!  
Alexa - I never said Aragorn would get off worse! You are jumping to conclusions, my friend... Rest assured that your elfling will get his fair share of injuries. Never fear, I'm too sadistic and evil to let him get away unscathed! Unfortunately I have to admit that the twins and Elrond will leave in ch 5 and won't make an appearance again after that. Sorry, but I was running out of ideas to hurt all of them, Legolas and Aragorn are more than enough!  
E - Well, who cursed Thranduil ... Mhahaha, I did! I'm evil, I know... Hm, Thranduil didn't really choose to get into trouble with them, nor did he want to, he was just a little too drunk to think straight. Happens to the best of us. *blushes slightly* And I absolutely agree with you. Somhow they manage to attract touble, I don't know how either... *blinks slowly* Uhm ... okay ... Gandalf's fault ... or rather Magneto's ... whatever you say, my friend... *g* Thanks for the review!  
CrazyLOTRfan - Uhm, frankly, no, it can't be good. It ISN'T good, just you wait. I'll try to update every four days or so, depends on my college work how long I will be able to keep that up. Thanks for reviewing!  
One15 - *nickt ernsthaft* Jajaja, so sind die Vaeter halt. Denken immer, nur weil sie Maenner sind, haetten sie 'ne Ahnung von Technik - was ja allgemein definitiv NICHT so ist, nech wahr? - und dann zerstoeren sie alles, was nicht bei drei auf den Baeumen ist... *schuettelt Kopf* Maenner. *grosse Augen* Du gehst extra meinetwegen rueber zu deiner Freundin? Och, das ist ja suess, danke... *rot werd* Vielen Dank fuer all die Komplimente, ist eigentlich nicht gut fuer mein Ego, aber ab und zu mal schoen zu hoeren. Danke fuer die review und moege deion Computer bald gesunden! *g*  
Shandrial - *blushes* That's great to hear! That you enjoyed the other story, I mean... I have to agree, Elrond is VERY good at hiding his feelings. But then again, he is the Lord of Rivendell and the Keeper of Vilya and all that... *shrugs* Whatever. Thanks fot reviewing! It's very nice to 'see' you again!  
Sr - Hmm, good question. I guess the twins were still quite ... let's say 'upset', shall we? I mean, you know how they are, and with Estel and Legolas half-dead... *shudders at mere thought* I has probably tkaen some time for them to realise that Seobryn isn't the enemy - and elven stares can be quite uncomfortable... Oh, and I try to post every four days. *shrugs* I don't know for how long I can keep that up, but I'll try.  
Firnsarnien - *grins guiltily* Now how did you know that? Actually, my toes and finger and every crossable part of my body. Ah, that does sound so ... wrong, somehow, just ignore me, will ya? Thanks. *points* See? It's not a real cliffy, it's a baby cliffy, kind of... Thanks for reviewing! Hope you liked it despite the cliffy...  
Arwen-Evenstar - *g* Thanks! Great you like it, the twins my favourites, too - well, some of them, anyway. This is soon enough? I'm doing my best!  
Kandice - Wow! Two very ... interesting reviews, just for me! Thanks! *huggles her* Well, MY life is fine, I think, but yours sounds quite stressing somehow. Whatever gave me that idea? I don't know, must have been something you said... Oh, your brother got you cherry pie? My brother would NEVER do that! *sighs* Life's not fair, I don't know why I even expected it to... Oh, yes, rub it in, will you? No, I haven't seen Matrix: Reloaded yet, thanks for asking! *grrrr* but I WILL! *shakes fist threateningly* Tomorrow or Friday, I will see it, that I swear by Ilúvatar himself! Hmm, okay, that was a little weird. Whatever, thanks for the review!  
Salara - Och, die sind doch gar nicht so kompliziert, oder? Ich find sie immer am einfachsten... Na ja, ich praktizier sie ja auch schon ne Weile... LOL, ich habe also Rivendell verwanzt? Das ist auf jden Fall mal eine interessante Idee... Waere wirklich sehr praktisch, das muss ich schon zugeben... Tja, mit Celylith's kleinem Schmetterling ... das war alles seine Idee! Ich hatte daran keinen Anteil! Aha! Eine weitere Anhaengerin der mysterious-hints-Philosophie! Lass mich dich umarmen, Schwester! O-kay, das war seltsam, ignoriert' mich einfach... Und das Unheil dauert noch ne Weile, ich brauche immer ewig, bis ich auf den Punkt komme... *g*  
Firniswin - Oh, okay. Here's the next bit! Happy? *g* Thanks a lot for the compliments, and you just HAVE to love Estel, haven't you? He is so cute! *huggles him* Thanks for the review!  
LOTRMatrixStarwarsFan - Woho! Hi! *huggles her* Nice to see you again! Elrond acting OOC? *innocent smile* Why? Because he got drunk and himself, his advisors and Prince of Eryn Lasgalen almost killed? Could that be the reason? *g* Sorry, I really can't tell you what they did since I don't know either. But whatever it was, Gil-galad and Oropher weren't happy about it... Thanks for the review!  
Marbienl - Oh, don't worry, FF.net is doing that to me all the time... I think it hates me though. That's just fine with me, since I hate it too. Hey! Atop poking me, that won't help either! And I really think I will save that part of the plot for the next dtory, it kind of a two-for-one-deal... *g* LOL, Celyith has spidernapped Wilwarin? Yes, you could say so, I guess. I thought so, too, the height, I mean. Around seven or eight feet tall, I think. *blinks* A red haired, overgrown, middle-aged dwarf? I have to agree there, my friend. That definitely IS disturbing! And better not tell Legolas about that little vision... *evil grin* Well, Hithrawyn would probably like a drugged estel, I'm quite sure of that. And don't worry, we will hear more about the nightmares. Later. Okay, thanks a lot for the huge review!  
Aurienia - Oww, that's sweet, you have to study and still remember me! Thanks! *huggles her* Well, I guess Thranduil would have liked to faint, but that would've been rather un-kingly behaviour, wouldn't it? Oh, don't worry, I will keep dropping some hints, but I doubt you'll be able to fully understand him before the next story. *hugs Aurienia back* Thanks! I missed you too! Well, and yes, there is a cliffy, but only a tiny little one. Not even a real one, really... *g*  
Miss Understood - Well, I don't think so. Lina isn't exactly fond of Seobryn I think, she hasn't quite forgiven him for not rescuing Estel yet... *g* Huh? OF COURSE 'flabbergasted' is a real word, just look it up in a dictionary! I wouldn't just think of a convenient word! Well, maybe I would, but I didn't! *g*  
  
**Well, that's it for now. Thanks a lot for all the reviews, and I'll try to update Sunday, but I don't know yet. Friends of mine are coming to stay over Ascension Day and the weekend, and we are going to have so much fun! So I can't promise I will be able to do _anything_ on Sunday, but I'll try!  
  
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	4. Along Came a Spider

**Disclaimer: **For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.  
  
  
**A/N:  
  
*groans* I shouldn't have got up this morning, I knew it was a mistake from the very beginning... But then again, I DO have an obligation to you or something of that sort, so I did it anyway. *g*  
  
Oh, btw, have any of you seen "Matrix: Reloaded"? I mean, hey, the movie is great, especially Agent Smith ("Mr. Anderson. Surprised ... to see me?"), but am I the only one who is a. confused and b. feeling betrayed? I mean, they can't stop there! They just can't! *wails*  
  
Okay, I feel better now...  
  
*grins* I agree, Celylith IS quite strange, but hey, I know a person who thinks scorpions are the most adorable and perfect things on this planet, so such people really do exist.** **And yes, I have to confirm that Elrond and the twins will leave next chapter and - never - come - back. *hits herself* Sorry, another Gollum moment, happens all the time... *g*   
Anyway, they won't be back this story, I think, and I'm not sure about the next one yet. I'm sorry, but I was running out of ideas to hurt all of them. Legolas and Aragorn are bad enough.**  
  
  
**Well, next chapter's here even though I'm still half-asleep (we had _very much_ fun yesterday evening, I think. Can't remember much of it, but that's what I've been told *g*). Yay me! Okay, we see ... spiders - who would've guessed, I know - ... worried elves and rangers ... _very_ annoyed elven kings and more of the evil men. And some action in between, of course. *g*  
  
  
Have fun and review, please!  
  
  
  
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Chapter 4  
  
  
Elrohir watched the crawling things all around them, inwardly cursing alternately his luck, that horrid spider and Celylith. _Especially_ Celylith. He couldn't be a proper elf, the elven twin decided, no elf would behave like this. Not even a dwarf could behave so foolishly, for Eru's sake!  
  
The spider right in front of him shifted another inch closer, and Elrohir grasped his sword a little bit more tightly. This was not good. Not only were they surrounded by giant arachnids, but said arachnids were also disconcertingly quiet, something which he didn't like at all. He moved a little to the left, shifting closer to his twin who stood next to him in the circle they had formed to protect themselves.  
  
"Does anybody has an idea what to do?" he whispered, not taking his eyes off their silent foes.  
  
"Except for not talking, not moving and pretending to be both bad-tasting and far away from here? No."  
  
Elrohir sighed, giving his older brother an annoyed look. While he could sympathise with Elladan's dry humour, especially facing a potentially deadly situation such as this one, it could be terribly annoying.  
  
"We could give them the spider and run when their attention is diverted," Aragorn suggested, eyeing a spider that was taller than him and about five times as wide.  
  
"Give them Wilwarin? Are you mad?" Celylith hissed, holding onto the rope that wound round the spider's neck with both hands. Now that the animal heard and sensed others of its kind, it strained against its restrains and generally did all in its power to break free.  
  
Legolas glared at the silver haired elf, his patience finally spent.  
"A better question would be, are _you_ mad? We are surrounded by these foul things and you still want to keep her? She is a spider, Celylith, and they are spiders! By the Valar, I will order you to set her free if I have to!"  
  
Celylith grimaced.  
"They could be of a different colony, perhaps they want to harm her…"  
  
"Celylith!" four exasperated voices hissed.  
  
"'Tis enough now!" Legolas added tensely. "You will let that spider go, now!"  
  
Their argument was interrupted when the black mass of spider bodies parted at the far side of the clearing and a dark … something began to glide forwards, fast approaching their position. Aragorn squinted and tried to make out the outline of the being that was coming their way, but keen as his eyes might be for a human, he just couldn't identify what it was in the near-complete darkness that filled the glade. All he could see was that it was surely more than twelve feet tall and apparently just as wide.  
  
Finally giving up, he asked Elladan,  
  
"Brother? What is that?"  
  
The older twin didn't answer, his wide eyes fixed on the form that was now only a few dozen yards away.  
  
"Trouble, _mellonamin_," Legolas answered for the twin, unsheathing one of his knives that rattled softly against the sheath. "And by the looks of it, big trouble."  
  
"What is it?" the young ranger demanded again, gripping the hilt of his sword so tightly that his knuckles showed white through the skin, the pain in his wrists forgotten now that the adrenaline coursed through his body.  
  
"It appears," the elven prince answered lightly, "that Wilwarin's mother has just arrived."  
  
Aragorn's mouth nearly fell open.  
  
"You mean that's a _spider_?" he asked unbelievingly, his eyes as wide as saucers now. "That monster is as tall as a house!"  
  
"Taller," Elladan muttered dryly, having finally regained his ability to speak. "Legolas, let me tell you one thing: If we survive this, I will have to kill that poor excuse for an elf that is standing right behind me. I thought you, as his lord, should know."  
  
"No, _mellonamin_," Legolas muttered, not being able to avert his eyes from the giant female spider that came ever closer. "You will not kill him. I will."  
  
"Only if I don't get to him first," Elrohir and Aragorn said simultaneously, causing the elf in question to grimace. Perhaps it was better to volunteer for a long-time scouting mission sometime in the near future, Celylith mused, eyeing his companions warily. He would gladly go anywhere, as long as it was far, very far away from his irate friends. Mordor sounded very nice, as did Harad…   
  
The giant black thing stopped right in front of them, towering over the five young beings that gazed at her grimly, determined not to let their fear show. But it was quite hard not to appear afraid when you were surrounded by spiders that were obviously trying to decide whether they should even bother to weave you into a cocoon before they ate you, Aragorn thought, swallowing hard.   
  
'King Thranduil is right,' he thought wryly, 'Every time Legolas and I are together, something like this seems to happen. It's a law of nature, I think.'  
  
The spider's huge eyes seemed to wander over the small group, dismissing them instantly when they came to rest on the hissing "butterfly" Celylith still tried to hold back. It opened its mouth and gave a low, hissing sound, something more than just an animal sound, but just less than understandable words.  
  
At this the smaller animal squealed and began to trash around, trying to escape the elf's restraining grasp. Celylith had his trouble avoiding the legs and sharp claws, and only with all his considerable elven strength did he manage to hold his pet back.  
  
"Celylith!" Legolas hissed threateningly. "Let her go!"  
  
"But Legolas…" the other elf began, but was cut off quickly when the fair haired prince whirled to face him.  
  
"Enough now!" Legolas said, glaring at his friend. "I know how much you like these abominable things," he stopped shortly to give the still fighting spider a deadly glare when it once again began to tell him what a "bad, bad, _bad_ Leafie" he was, "but this is enough! If we don't give her up now, none of use is leaving this clearing alive! Do you understand?"  
  
Celylith looked at his prince, but when it became apparent that he wouldn't budge an inch and that neither one of elven twins nor Aragorn was willing to back him up, he relented.  
  
"As you command, your Highness," he said, looking at Legolas with hurt blue eyes, reaching for his dagger and carefully cutting the ropes that secured the hood on the spitting spider's head.   
  
As soon as the cloth came off, the animal hissed and tried to bite off the silver haired elf's head, a fate which he only escaped by letting go of the rope he held and rolling to the side. The spider skittered away, quickly disappearing in the mass of moving, hissing bodies all around them, making its way quickly over to its mother, half of the time hissing, half of the time talking in its high, screechy voice.  
  
"Wicked, wicked!! Evil elves, wicked, nasty Leafie, wicked!!"  
  
Legolas smiled blissfully, ignoring the thing, deciding in an instant that the turned back of this creature was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen in his long life. He would never have to lay eyes on this horrible spider again, and if he by some chance did, he would kill it, and not even Celylith would be able to stop him.  
  
He shook his head as he heard his friend tearfully whisper behind him,  
  
"Goodbye, Wilwarin. I will miss you."  
  
He came to the decision not to turn; if he saw tears in the eyes of his childhood friend now, he would very likely really kill him.  
  
"Uhm, Legolas?" the tense voice of his human friend asked, causing him to focus once more on the spiders that were closing in on them. "I really do not think that this has solved any of our problems. In fact, I think that it has just made matters worse."  
  
Legolas surveyed the scene in front of him, and as much as he hated to, he had to agree.  
  
The giant female spider, obviously the matriarch of this particular colony, bent down to sniff the younger spider, and after a few seconds filled with hissing and unarticulated sounds, she slowly turned and moved back the way she had come, Wilwarin in tow.  
The other spiders however came ever closer, a mass of moving, crawling dark bodies that seemed to scramble over each other in their attempt to get closer to their prey.  
  
"Did you see that?" Celylith asked, sounding awed and on the brink of being moved to tears. "She really is the mother, their behaviour is fascinating…"  
  
"Celylith," Elrohir growled, turning burning eyes on the elven warrior. "If you utter another word, just one other word, I swear by the Valar and Ilúvatar himself that I will kill you! I never make idle threats nor break my promises, son of Celythramir, you should keep that in mind."  
  
To his credit and their relief, the silver haired elf really closed his mouth and contended himself with glaring darkly at them.  
  
Aragorn had just opened his mouth to ask how in Elbereth's name they should ever get out of this when a claw came out of nowhere and fastened itself around Elrohir's ankle, dragging him to the ground. With a cry of pain the younger twin went down, his hands grasping his leg, vainly trying to dislodge the hold one of the creatures had on him. Elladan gave a shout of rage and hurled himself at the spider that seemed intent on dragging his twin away from them, and all of the sudden the whole clearing erupted in frantic action as Aragorn, Celylith and Legolas raised their weapons and began to fight their way through the mass of spiders that seemed to fill every bit of space in the clearing.  
  
The spiders quickly realised that they had to keep their distance from these so very tasty-looking delicacies if they didn't want to lose their legs or worse, and changed their tactics from rushing them to trying to immobilise them by shooting thick, silver, sticky threats at them, trying to catch one of the five young beings.  
  
"Legolas! Behind you!" Aragorn's voice sounded over the chaos of hissing, shrieking spider bodies, alive and dying, and the noises of swishing blades that found flesh, causing the hit spider to give a loud cry and collapse to the ground, legs and pinchers twitching.  
  
Legolas didn't even waste time trying to discern what it was that was behind him but dropped instantly to the ground and rolled to the side, rolling back to his feet in one fluid motion and coming to a full stop when he came face to face with another spider. Moving quicker than the arachnid could react, the elven prince had somersaulted backwards and thrown one of his knives in the same move. The spider gave an unearthly shriek and fell to the ground, the dagger sticking out of one of his huge compound eyes.  
  
The elf regarded the dying beast without pity, his hands unconsciously straying to the quiver on his back when he saw even more spiders appear at the edge of the glade. He found only air and empty space, and with a sinking feeling the prince remembered that he didn't have a bow anymore. His beloved, decades old bow was gone, buried under countless rocks in a cave in the Misty Mountains, and he hadn't had the heart to get a new one yet. Which might have been a mistake, he realised wryly.   
  
Not having time to dwell on this, he quickly retrieved his dagger just in time to dance to the side and bury it in the hairy body of another spider that had apparently given up on trying to trap this agile prey with its silk and was rushing at him at full speed now. The beast fell as the first, but this time the prince was not fast enough to escape the flailing legs completely and a claw ripped through his tunic, leaving a long, ragged cut just over his breastbone.  
  
Legolas hissed and drew back, doing his best to ignore the pain and finding a way out of their predicament. He quickly looked around him, and what he saw didn't please him in the slightest. Aragorn and Elladan were apparently still trying to free their brother from a small cluster of spiders that had managed to drag Elrohir out of their midst and were now trying to carry the younger twin off into the woods. Both Elrohir's elven and human brother were desperately trying to reach the unmoving elf's side, hacking at the spiders with wild ferocity. Even Celylith was holding his own, even though Legolas thought he saw a wince on his friend's face every time his sharp elven blade connected with a spider's body.  
  
'At least he's not trying to communicate with them again,' he thought dryly, trying to force his way through the mass of crawling foes to Aragorn's and Elladan's side. He reached them just in time to bury his left dagger in a beast that was descending on his friends from the trees above them, and it fell to the ground with a scream, knocking the young ranger to the ground.  
  
Legolas gave a furious dwarven curse, called for Celylith to cover them and rushed forwards, using all his strength to free his trapped friend. Aragorn lay under the fallen spider, trying with all his might to push the body off himself that was pressing down on his freshly healed ribs, a bleeding cut from either a pincher or a claw running over his forehead. A second later Legolas arrived at his side and, grabbing one of the now still black legs, he began to pull the still body aside, grimacing in disgust as he did so.  
  
After what appeared to be an eternity he finally managed to free his human friend, grabbed him tightly by the arm and pulled him to his feet, steadying the gasping human who doubled over, attempting to force air into his uncooperative lungs. With a quick look making sure that Aragorn wasn't seriously hurt, he let his eyes wander over the clearing. Even though they had killed or at least immobilized a great deal of the foul things, even more started to appear from the trees all around them. For every fallen spider there seemed to pop up at least two new ones that scurried into their direction.  
  
Legolas noticed out of the corner of his eye that Elladan had finally managed to skewer the last spider that had been trying to separate him from his unconscious brother, and he grimaced, not at all liking the command he would have to give. He was a wood-elf, and as that hated the spiders and other foul things that sought to destroy his home with a fierce passion. Besides, wood-elves rarely fled before their foes, and everything inside of him screamed in refusal to such an action.  
  
But sometimes fleeing was the only option one had, and he was sensible enough to understand the need to live to fight another day.   
  
He grabbed Aragorn's arm tightly and began to drag the still winded ranger backwards.  
  
"Retreat!" he yelled, lashing out at a spider that wanted to cut off their escape. "Elladan! Celylith! Get back to the path! We need to leave, now!!"  
  
The older twin nodded and took up his brother that was lying unmoving at his feet, trusting Celylith to cover them which the other elf did, striking out at every dark, furry body that blocked their path. His love for spiders was obviously not so strong that he was willing to let himself or his friends be eaten by them.  
  
The small group carefully retreated back out of the clearing, bringing swift death to all those of the spiders that were not willing to let this tasty meat escape. When they had put some distance between them and the beasts that had, after a lot of hissing, screeching and threatening screams, decided that these five were more trouble than they were worth and had stopped their pursuit, they finally stopped, still glancing warily around them.  
  
Aragorn let himself sink to the ground that was covered with dark brown leaves in utter exhaustion. He grimaced as he wiped the blood out of his eyes that trickled down from his head wound. 'Eru, when I said I needed exercise I didn't mean it quite like this…'  
  
His older brother's voice quickly drew him out of his idle considerations.  
"Elrohir! Wake up! Come now, brother, open your eyes, please!"  
  
The twin's voice sounded on the verge of a full-fledged panic now, for he had tried to rouse his brother during the whole time they had run to save their lives, without success however.  
  
Aragorn quickly moved over to his brothers' side, swiftly followed by Legolas who was trying to free his clothing of spider silk.  
Elladan, unscathed except for a few scratches and a lot of spider blood that clung to his arms, chest and even his face and dark hair, had placed his twin on the ground and was now carefully cutting away the other's legging to reveal the freely bleeding gash that the spider's claw had left in the young elf's leg.   
  
"He is not waking!" he said, looking at the friends with frightened eyes, barely controlled panic clear to hear. "He should not even be unconscious! Why is he not waking?"  
  
Aragorn and Legolas traded a look, and the young ranger shifted closer to his oldest brother and grabbed his shaking hand, trying not to let his mounting worry show. Fierce warrior and versed healer that Elladan may be, when it came to his family and especially to his twin, he was not capable of remaining calm and assessing a situation with the necessary detachment.  
  
"Calm down, Elladan," he said sternly, forcing himself to smile at his elven brother and giving his hand a squeeze. "You need to focus. Elrohir needs you, you cannot panic now."  
  
The young ranger smiled slightly as he watched the older twin take a deep breath. This worked every time.  
  
"You are right, Estel," the dark haired elf said, giving the other a brief smile before fixing his eyes on his brother once more. "Forgive me." He looked at Legolas who had used the opportunity to examine the fallen elf more closely. "What is wrong with him then?"  
  
Legolas grimaced and gently turned the unconscious elf's head to the side, revealing a red, slightly bleeding bite mark that had been concealed by Elrohir's long hair.  
  
"One of them bit him," he said simply, rummaging through the small pack he had insisted they took with them and pulling out a bandage.  
  
Elladan's eyes grew wide as he obviously tried to remember what he knew about spider bites, the panic in them only increasing.  
"Bit him? But he will live, won't he? Won't he, Legolas?"  
  
Legolas smiled at his friend reassuringly.  
"Yes, of course he will. He simply sleeps, and when he wakes up he will be back to his annoying self in no time. As soon as you two have bandaged his leg, we can leave."  
  
The prince didn't mention to his friend that, sometimes, spider bites could indeed kill. No-one knew why, but sometimes they caused a severe reaction in the victim's body, and the agent in the spider's poison that usually paralysed and rendered unconscious worked in a different way, bringing him or her close to death's doors, and without help, even beyond these dark gates. If that happened, elves had a far better chance of survival than men or dwarves did, and so Legolas truly wasn't very worried. Elrohir was young and strong, he was an elf and they were less than two hours away from his father's halls. He would be just fine. He hoped.  
  
While he carefully wrapped the long strip of white linen around the dark haired elf's neck, he remembered with a shudder how exactly this had happened to him about a year ago. He could very clearly remember how the poison had burned in his veins while he had been dragging himself back home after a spider's nest had dropped out of the trees right in front of him and his horse.   
His father had indeed not been pleased when he had arrived at the palace two days after he had left for Rivendell, a little bit worse for the wear. He was still of the opinion that the terms his father and king used for his appearance instead, mainly "barely alive", "delusional" and "about to pass into the Halls of Waiting" were a gross exaggeration, but it hadn't been very pleasant, that much he did indeed remember.  
  
Once he had bandaged the bite wound, Legolas stiffly rose to his feet and was just about to tell Celylith who had been keeping watch over the little clearing that they would leave now, when a hand grabbed his long-sleeved tunic that had once been of a beige colour but was now more or less completely covered with dark spider blood and stopped his movements. He looked down, perplexed, to see the stern face of his human friend.  
  
"Sit," Aragorn ordered, pointing with his other hand at a spot right next to him.  
  
Legolas raised lifted an eyebrow in question, with one hand trying to untangle his matted braids that were dark with the foul creatures' blood now.  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Sit," the young ranger repeated, pulling at the sleeve he held insistently. "Sit down, Legolas, and let me have a look at that cut."  
  
Legolas glanced down his body, already having forgotten about his injury.  
"'Tis nothing serious, Estel. It's truly just a scratch, and we need to get your brother back to the palace now. We don't have time to linger here."  
  
Estel gave him a very good version of his father's _look_, and Legolas wondered dazedly how it was possible that a human could reproduce elven stares so perfectly. He could never glare at someone like that, he decided, allowing his friend to pull him to the ground; you probably needed either a lot of practice or had to be a blood relative of Lord Elrond, however distantly. Probably both, he thought with a slight smile.  
  
"This is not funny, Legolas," Aragorn said accusingly, unbuttoning his friend's shirt and swatting at his hands that were trying to do the same thing. "Stop that and let me work."  
  
Legolas blinked at the human who was inspecting the long, ragged, bleeding cut that ran across his chest. If Aragorn had added a "young prince" to that last sentence, he could have sworn he had just heard the Lord of Rivendell and not his adopted son, so much did the ranger sound like the elf lord.  
  
Aragorn looked at his elven friend with eyes full of indignation.  
  
"So this is only a scratch?" he asked unbelievingly, poking the other in the chest just above the cut. "Legolas, that thing cut open your chest from one shoulder to the other!"  
  
"And your point is?" Legolas shot back, trying not to hiss in pain when the human grabbed their only water bottle and poured a generous amount of water over the wound. "It is a shallow cut, nothing more!"  
  
Aragorn only snorted, a sound that removed the last doubts from Legolas' mind that some kind of foul magic had to be at work here. That snort had sounded exactly like the Lord of Imladris, and it should not be possible for one of the Second People to imitate one of the _eldar_ thus. Carefully the elven prince eyed the young human in front of him who was just finishing covering his chest in bandages. Perhaps he _was_ Lord Elrond after all and he was merely hallucinating?   
  
He closed his eyes and counted to three. When he opened them again, Aragorn was still there, looking at him with worried eyes.  
  
"Legolas? Are you alright? Is there another wound?"  
  
The fair haired elf just kept looking at him.  
"No," he said slowly, "No, I am fine."  
  
"Well, you don't look fine," Aragorn told him, climbing to his feet and offering the prince a hand up. "In fact, you look as if you had just discovered that I was the Dark Lord in disguise."  
  
Legolas looked at him, shaking his head as he grabbed the offered hand and stood up.  
"No, _mellonamin_," he said gravely. "Rather someone much, much worse than the Lord of Mordor."  
  
The ranger looked back at his friend, wondering if the elf had got a hit on the head as well. He gave Legolas a careful smile and patted his arm.  
"Of course, Legolas. Can you walk?"  
  
"Of course I can walk!" Legolas exclaimed, sounding rather offended.   
  
"Very well," Aragorn replied and sank to his knees next to his two elven brothers. "Elladan? Can you carry him or should we help you?"  
  
Elladan slowly looked up from where he had been gently brushing errant strands of dark hair out of his twin's tightly closed eyes. He gave his human brother a slightly confused look, as if for the first time noticing that he and Elrohir weren't alone in the tiny glade where they had stopped.  
  
"Elladan?" the young man replied, catching his eye. "Did you hear what I said?"  
  
The older twin blinked slowly and finally nodded.  
  
"Yes," he said, gathering Elrohir in his arms and standing up, "Yes, of course I can carry him. Let us go."  
  
Legolas motioned Celylith to take the lead, and the silver haired elf complied, avoiding his friend's gaze. The prince sighed. Celylith would need some time to get over his beloved pet's loss, that much was sure.  
  
He turned back to his human friend who was still kneeling on the ground, shaking his head slightly.  
  
"Strider?" he questioned softly, crouching down next to him. "Are you alright? That spider didn't do any damage when it fell on you, did it?"  
  
Aragorn shook his head, silver eyes dancing with silent laughter.  
"No."  
  
"Then what is it?" Legolas asked as he carefully pulled the young man to his feet and they began to follow the others.  
  
"I have a question for you: Is there any other way to get into the palace than to walk through the gates? A way that doesn't take longer than a few hours?"  
  
The blonde elf looked at him in confusion.  
"No, not that I know of, and believe me, I know all of them."  
  
Aragorn just grinned at his friend as he ducked slightly to avoid a low-hanging branch.  
"Then we are in trouble."  
  
Legolas quickly saw his friend's point.  
"_Elentári_," he whispered, his face paling rapidly now. "They will kill us."  
  
"We will have to think of a plausible story, my friend."  
  
"It is a pity Elrohir is unconscious," Legolas commented dryly. "That elf can talk himself out of nearly anything."  
  
"Well," Aragorn said and turned serious again, renewed worry shining in his grey eyes, "We will have to do without him. I am sure there are many good reasons we can come up with for the state we are in."  
  
"If you say so," the elf retorted doubtfully. "We will have to come up with something credible, or we can go back to Celylith's friends and let them finish what they've begun. That would be quicker."  
  
"Not to mention less painful," the ranger added, giving a mock shudder of fear. "How is it that you always drag me into these situations?"  
  
"Oh, be quiet, reckless human."  
  
"As you wish, stubborn elf."  
  
And, smiling at each other, they hurried to catch up with the twins and Celylith, feverishly trying to come up with something they could tell their fathers.  
  
  
  
  
"So."  
  
The King of Mirkwood watched with more satisfaction than he should rightly feel how the three elves and the ranger flinched at his soft, almost tranquil tone of voice.  
  
"So," he repeated, smiling friendly at the four young beings in front of him that looked very much as if they had taken a prolonged bath in spider blood.  
  
Legolas looked as if he wanted to say something, but obviously thought better of it and closed his mouth again without uttering a word.  
  
Thranduil let them squirm for another minute before he chose to say some more.  
  
"A walk," he said, giving the young ones a mild smile. "You took a walk."  
  
His son nodded hesitantly.  
"Yes, _ada_."  
  
"Which you couldn't tell anyone because you decided to do it … what was the exact word again? Oh yes, because you decided _spontaneously_."  
  
The elven king received another careful affirmative.   
  
"And on that walk that took you hours away from the palace, you were attacker by spiders," Thranduil continued, still smiling politely at them.  
  
Aragorn swallowed and hurried to nod with his friend. This was most unsettling, he decided. Legolas' father bore a disconcerting resemblance to a cat that was playing with a mouse before finally pouncing and eating it with one bite.  
  
"And these spiders that attacked you this close to the palace without reason bit Lord Elrond's younger son and injured my own."  
  
Legolas smiled hesitantly at his far too calm father.  
"That is correct, _ada_."  
  
The king merely looked at him blankly before adding,  
  
"So you escaped from them and made your way back here."  
  
All four of them nodded now, and Elladan said,  
  
"That is what happened, your Majesty."  
  
Thranduil inclined his head to his friend's son in his unique regal way, but his blue eyes gleamed dangerously.  
"Very well, you four. But could you possibly explain to me why you attempted to sneak back into the palace without anyone noticing?"  
  
Legolas, having been elected spokesman before their arrival, took a deep breath. This was a little bit tricky, but it had been a risk they had had to take. If their attempts to avoid the guardsmen had been successful, they wouldn't even be in this situation but safely in their own rooms. But, alas, the guards had caught them, which the elven prince blamed solely on the fact that Elrohir was a lot heavier than he looked.  
  
"We didn't want to disturb anyone," he lied, looking at his father with big, innocent eyes. "Besides, Hithrawyn would have had a fit if we had come to him dragging Elrohir behind, asking him to heal him. He might even have harmed us, he is quite stressed out lately."  
  
"This way Lord Elrond had a fit when he saw his son," Thranduil countered, looking sternly at all of them.  
  
Elladan and Aragorn hung their heads. Their father truly hadn't been very pleased to see his younger elven son in such a condition, and the _look_ he had given them while he had taken Elrohir to the healing wing had been full of promises of what would happen to them once he got a hold of them.  
  
The golden haired king looked at them a minute longer, studying their guilty faces.  
"And that is all?" he asked in a syrupy tone of voice. "There is nothing more you would like to tell me?"  
  
Legolas swallowed nervously and slowly shook his head.  
"No, father. Nothing more of interest happened."  
  
'Well,' he reasoned silently, 'Wilwarin wasn't really_ that_ fascinating a creature after all.'  
  
"I see," his father said quietly, looking closely at all four of them. "Then I have only one last question, I think."  
  
Legolas almost closed his eyes when he saw the older elf rise to his feet and narrow his eyes. This was not good; this was _not_ a good sign…  
  
Thranduil raised a blonde eyebrow and asked in a mere whisper,  
  
"Do you honestly expect me to believe a single word of that?"  
  
The fair haired prince gulped slightly, shooting his equally petrified friends a brief, panic-stricken look.  
"Well … yes."  
  
That much was true, he thought, there were some parts that sounded more trustworthy than others. About one or two phrases had even sounded quite realistic.  
  
The King of Mirkwood was spared a response when the door of his study opened and Lord Elrond entered, looking not too amused himself.  
  
"My lord," Elrond nodded at the other elf lord and shot his sons and the other two occupants of the room a scathing glare.  
  
"Lord Elrond," Thranduil inclined his head, "How is your son?"  
  
"He will be well, thank you. Your healers kindly provided an antidote that will help his body to get rid of the poison more quickly. He will wake in a few hours."  
  
"I am glad to hear that, my friend," the golden haired elf said, smiling slightly. He turned serious again and looked at the four young beings that still stood in front of his desk, shooting each other nervous glances, but looking very relieved after hearing that Elrohir would be alright.  
"They were just explaining what has transpired," he added, smiling at them.  
  
Aragorn shuddered. No, he had been mistaken, he thought, Thranduil wasn't like a cat. After all, he had never seen such a sadistic cat, but then again, cats liked to eat mice bit by bit as well, always giving them some time to regain their strength and get up their hopes for escape once more.  
  
The Lord of Rivendell nodded slowly, looking the three elves and the human over.  
"I see."  
  
For a second he contemplated leaving and coming back in an hour to collect whatever was left of them once King Thranduil was finished with them, but his heart softened when he saw the identical pleading stares his eldest and youngest son gave him, grey eyes urging him to help them.  
  
Elrond turned to the elven king who stood behind his desk, face twitching slightly.  
"I see, my lord," he repeated, trying to stifle a smile when he saw the hopeful looks the four gave him. "But this will have to wait, I'm afraid."  
  
Legolas beamed at the elf lord's turned back, noting the way Celylith, Aragorn and Elladan relaxed in relief. Ilúvatar be praised that Lord Elrond had such a kind heart, he really didn't want to hear what his father had to say right now.   
  
Elrond turned and gave them the _look_, an odd sparkle in his eyes. The young prince winced; perhaps he had been mistaken. Perhaps Lord Elrond didn't act out of kindness but simply wanted the pleasure of killing all of them himself. Unfortunately, one could never tell with him.  
  
"I would like to have a look at all of them, especially your son. Injuries caused by spiders, however superficial and shallow, tend to become infected rather easily," the dark haired elf lord continued.  
  
King Thranduil narrowed his eyes and surveyed the other elf, but nodded his head, mild worry in his eyes when he turned to his son.  
"Very well then, my son, we will continue this tomorrow, after you have rested. Is there any other injury I should know about?"  
  
Legolas smiled at his father.  
"Nay, father, it is truly only a cut. I am fine."  
  
His father returned the smile, arching an elegant eyebrow.  
"Just how many times have I heard that statement?"  
  
Elrond laughed lightly, beckoning his sons and Celylith to leave the room.  
"About as many times as I have heard it from my own sons, I reckon."   
  
The blonde elf shook his head in mock sadness.  
"You might be correct there, my lord," he said, smiling at the elf lord who was just urging the three others out of the room. Turning back to his son, he added, putting an arm around the younger elf's shoulder and walking him to the door, "And I will hear it many more times, I think." He wrinkled his forehead slightly, giving the prince an admonishing look. "Legolas, you could at least try and be a bit more careful."  
  
Legolas cast down his eyes, the guilt he felt for worrying his father clearly visible in his very stance.  
"I know, _ada_. I am sorry, it just … happened."  
  
Thranduil smiled.  
"It always does, my son. And always to you."   
  
Legolas gave him a brief smile and walked down the corridor to join his friends that stood next to Elrond, waiting for him, when his father's voice reached his ears.  
"Tomorrow morning, Legolas. In my study."  
  
The younger elf winced, but turned and nodded.  
"Yes, father."  
  
Ignoring his grinning friends, he followed Lord Elrond into the direction of the healing wing.  
  
Behind him, Elladan stated, sounding very glad at having escaped the elven king's wrath,  
  
"Well, it could have been worse."  
  
Snorting softly, Legolas fell into step next to him.  
"For me, dear Elladan, it _is_ worse. Now my father has time to come up with a lecture I will surely remember for the next few decades."  
  
The older twin nodded in mock sympathy.  
"Yes, my prince, that is the burden of your position. After all, we are merely simple lords, rangers or captains of guards, while you, as a prince, and the crown prince at that, should really know better than to run off and get yourself injured like this…"  
  
Legolas scowled at the other elf and gave the snickering human next to him a dark glare.  
"I am so glad I can amuse you, Strider. Let's see how amused you will be after three months as a guest in my house, shall we? Many things can happen around here… Many painful things that happen without reason or warning…"  
  
Aragorn quickly swallowed his laughter, deciding not to irritate his friend any further. He was right after all, three months could be a very long time...   
Just then they reached the healing wing, but when Aragorn and Elladan wanted to follow their friends that had already made their ways over to some extremely grumpy, tired and ill-tempered-looking healers that had apparently already been awaiting their arrival, a tall figure moved in to intercept them.  
  
The two brothers traded a pained looked before raising their eyes to meet their father's who stood in the doorway, smiling friendly at them. Far too friendly, Aragorn decided with a shudder.  
  
"Estel, you may go inside. Hithrawyn will give you something that will help you sleep. We will talk tomorrow. I have some things to discuss with your far older and more mature brother," Elrond said quietly, the soft sound of his voice sounding as grim and threatening in the brothers' ears as the shrieking of a Ringwraith.  
  
Aragorn nodded quickly, not even protesting about the sleeping draught. That was both because he really didn't think that his father would be open to reasonable arguments right now and because he honestly didn't mind sleeping without the danger of having nightmares. In the past few weeks he had come to appreciate his father's brews, mainly because they guaranteed a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. Besides, Elrond would force him to drink the potion anyway, no matter how strongly he objected.  
  
With a last look at Elladan's face who looked as if he had just been sentenced to a millennium in prison with only a balrog for company, he quickly slid inside, thanking all the Valar that he had got off this lightly. He winced as he caught the _look_ Elrond gave him before he firmly shut the door from the outside, a hand on the shoulder of his oldest son. Maybe not.  
  
Well, at least he had a short reprieve, he thought as he tried to convince Hithrawyn, whose face had assumed a rather interesting red colour, that he was perfectly alright. With any luck at all Elrond would have calmed down once he had ripped Elladan's head off his shoulders for allowing them to get themselves into such a situation.  
  
'Yes,' he thought, trying not to hiss in pain when the master healer cleaned the cut on his forehead with quite a lot more force than necessary, 'Thank Ilúvatar for small favours.'  
  
  
  
  
Adruran sent a dark glare to the equally dark heavens, wondering how it was possible that the weather had changed that quickly. A mere hour ago the night sky had been cloudless and starry, and now they were in the middle of a downpour. Within minutes he and his men had been drenched as effectively as if someone had emptied multiple large buckets of ice cold water over their heads. At least it didn't snow yet, but that small measure of comfort didn't really do anything to soothe his flaring temper.  
  
_He_ didn't want to be here, _he _had never wanted this particular assignment, especially not at this time of year, but his lord had commanded it and that was it. Nobody refused his lord and lived to tell the tale.  
  
The man sighed, wiping a strand of wet brown hair out of his eyes. Everywhere there was water, all around them, but then again, that was only logical, considering they were moving along the shores of the Long Lake.   
  
Suddenly Adruran halted his horse, gesturing for the following men to do the same. In front of them, spreading across the horizon like a broad, shimmering band of stars, lights were appearing, shining in the darkness and promising the travellers shelter and a dry place at a fire.  
  
The man felt his companions relax, and unconsciously did the same. It had taken them nearly ten days to reach their destination, and even though the weather had been more agreeable most of the time, it was still not a very convenient time to travel, especially in the eastern parts of Wilderland.   
Before his men could spur on their horses to reach the promising lights, he turned his horse, piercing them with a stern glare.  
  
"We don't want any trouble," he said, looking at each of his troupe of twenty men in turn. "Do you understand? The first one who can't keep his mouth shut or starts any quarrel for which reason whatsoever will get sent back before he can even open his mouth to protest and can take on the questionable pleasure of explaining his behaviour to our lord."  
  
The men winced in unison. This was not something any of them wanted to experience.  
  
"We are here to carry out our orders, nothing more." Adruran shot the youngest member of the troupe a warning glare. "Tomorrow we will begin. Try to draw as little attention to yourselves as possible, but if anyone asks too many questions or makes any trouble, silence them. Make sure they won't get in our way and guarantee they don't talk. Ever again. Understood?"  
  
The others nodded, more than a few of them grinning openly, including the youngster.   
'Yes,' their commander thought tiredly, looking at the young man's gleaming brown eyes, 'Geran will cause trouble if I don't keep an eye on him.'  
  
The leader gave a last nod, turned his horse and quickly made his way towards the brightly shining lights of the town, intent on getting out of this rain.  
  
He really didn't like this assignment at all, but now that he had it, he would make sure that it was carried out properly and as quickly as possible. He would find the people his lord's informant had spoken of, make them tell him all he wanted to know and then make sure his liege got what he wanted.  
  
That was the only option he had anyway; no-one returned to his lord in disgrace and failure, and he would definitely not be the first one stupid enough to try.  
  
  
  
  
  
**TBC...  
  
  
  
  
  
** _mellonamin - my friend  
eldar - 'People of the Stars',__ elves_  
_Elentári - a title of Varda (Elbereth)_, _meaning 'Queen of the Stars'  
ada - father (daddy)  
  
  
  
  
_**See? Everybody's safe and at home and generally fine! *evil laugh* Not for long though... Okay, the next chapter should be here soon, I think, even though I really _should_ be studying. *shrugs* It's highly overrated, anyway. If you want to encourage me in that rather reprehensible attitude, just send me a review! I will work wonders, believe me! *g* Please?  
  
  
  
**

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**Additional A/N:  
  
**Coreinha - *hastily* Don't worry, they will be fine... Hey, wait! You threatened that wuite a lot of times and have never done it! Methinks you are bluffing, my lady! but still, I have updated! See! No need for swimming exercises... *g*  
TrinityTheSheDevil - You know what? You sound a little bit like Wilwarin... *g* Huh! You are giving me 'the look'? Ack! Fly, you fools! *smirks* No, you are definitely not killing me, because then you would never learn what happens! You want a spider then? *suspicious look* Well, okay then, here, you can have Wilwarin's little sister, but remember: I have a per balrog called Stan, just in case you get any funny ideas... *g* *pokes back* See? I DID update!  
E - Well, see I am updating, but I really hope I'll be finished with replying to the reviews soon ... the typing is awfully loud and I think my head wants to part company with the rest of me... *g* Well, you know me, I couldn't write an entirely serious chapter to save my life. Let me tell you one thing: I hate spiders! I really do, there's nothing worse than those eight-legged creatures of hell, if you ask me. I have to agree, Elrond and Thranduil probably weren't much of friends or anything like that, but I couldn't have them stay in the same palace and disloke each other. *thinks* Well, it's a nice idea though... too late now, I'm afraid. *confused* More wit into the comedy scenes? What exactly do you mean? Was it witless? *paniced look* WAS IT WITLESS? Tell me? Please?  
Firnsarnien - *puts finger together, like Mr. Burns from the Simpsons* Excellent... I would hate not being able to write cliffies! Oh, I did throw you off your chair? SO sorry! *evil grin* Well, yes, in all fairness I actually think that Elrond and Thranduil wouldn't get along in reality, but they had to in this story. I didn't want them to be at odds all the time. Great you like it! Thanks a lot!  
Kandice - Your graduation is Wednesday? Congratulations!! You have a faithful vampire-cat? Well, that's ... interesting! I have two cats which both think I am nothing but a human tin-opener and a balrog called Stan who isn't much better. You are right! Matrix is indeed great! I just loved Agent Smith and the twins! (Twin 1: We are getting aggravated. Twin 2: Yes, we are.) Great! I will see Bruce Almighty asap, but it doesn't come out here for another two weeks or something, I think. So I'll have to wait. Great. I _love_ waiting. Thanks for your great long review! *huggles her again to make her feel even more loved*  
Gwyn - I'm trying, I'm trying! In fact, I'm even _doing_ it! *g* Thanks a lot for the review!  
Mouse - *laughs* I'm glad you liked 'Leafie', even though I have the distinct feeling that Legolas isn't too thrilled about his new nickname. Bad for him, I guess... *g* Well, just read on, my friend, I don't want to spoil anything for you! But your guess isn't a bad one, considering how many spiders and how few elves/rangers there are... *evil grin* was this quick enough? *nervous look* I hope so...  
Miss Understood - Yes, waiting is quite stressing, actually... *evil grin* Not for me, though! *runs away cackling maniacally* Well, how to break this to you... Hewon'tbeinanotherchapteruntilchapter7. Okay? Gottagobye. *runs off* Sorry!! *from a distance* Don't kill me!  
Kaeera - Tja, ich kenne die Akzente vom Altgriechischunterrricht. Gravis, Akut und Zirkumflex. Die Franzosen haben doch mal wieder alles geklaut... *g* Und das auf Kaeera war 'n Akut. Tja, Ich geb's ja zu, Nightcrawler war nicht schlecht, aber ich stehe eher so auf Wolverine. Ich liebe die Krallen! *hinschmelz* Okay, ich wuerde das echt schreiben, nach dieser Story wenn ich mal ein bisschen Zeit haben sollte. Vielleicht so 3-4 Kapitel oder so. Sag mir nur, wann du im Nov. Geburtstag hast, dann kann ich ja gucken, was sich machen laesst... *g* Tja, wie ich sagte: viel Spass bei deiner Elrohir-hurt-Szene!   
Ciria - Well, I'm always that quick! About five days, that's me! Well, Glorfindel killed at least one blarog, back during the destruction of Gondolin. He did get killed in the process himself, though... *g* Huh, the last elf in ME? legolas was one of the last, but there is the question of what the twins did. Nobody really knows, so they might have been the last ones, either because they decided to chose the Doom of Men like their sister or because they journeyed West very late (Tolkien said in the Appendixes that they remained in ME for a long time after their father had set sail). *shrugs* Who knows.Well, Celylith isn't exactly in love with Wilwarin, but she's his pet and he likes her very much. And she likes Celylith more than other elves, but that doesn't say much. And he found its tracks during a patrol and followed her. *huggles Ciria* Thanks a lot for the double review! It was great and long! Thanks!  
NaughtyNat - *g* Yes, I would pity Suaron, actually... The five of them would destroy Barad-dûr in a matter of hours, I think... *g* Well, yes, Legolas _might_ get hurt in the story. Later. Only a little bit. You know me, I would never hurt a character, let alone _torture_ them! *evil laugh* You are right, in the movies Elrond is really not very nice, but I always imagined him totally different. But then again, all this here is befor Arwen, so... *shrugs* I like him better this way. Thanks for reviewing! Reviews really help and encourage a lot!  
Alilacia - *nods and kicks FF.net as well* Somtimes it does that. I will never understand how and why and things like that, but ... it just does. *shrugs* We hate it, Gollum, Gollum, yes we does, precious... Well, usually I hear things like Metallica or Limp Bizkit, but also Robbie Williams, Eminem and Live. Weird, I know, but do you know 'Live'? They are great, they really are! Try "Feel the quiet river rage" or "The dolphin's cry". Great songs, really. *g* Yup. Aragorn has lots of opportunities to practice his 'console a guilty mellon' skills... *grins evilly* Bad leafie, that's Legolas. He isn't so thrilled about it, I don't know why either... *g* You too? Trin already wanted a spider as well ... what are you guys planning? Hm? What? *suspious look*  
Halo - I have seen Matrix! Yes, I have! And the twins are SO cool! I mean really! I just love them! They are awesome! (Twin 1: We are getting aggravated. Twin 2: Yes, we are.) Great! Well, I'm glad you like it so much, despite the spiders. But where is your story, huh? And that other one, what's-its-name-again? "Save him if you can"? Huh? Where?  
Xsilicax - *innocent expression* What? Don't you like spiders? *leans closer and whispers* Me neither, but the things I do for you guys... *g* 'How could you?  
How could you end it there? How could you let it be spiders! How are they going to escape?' Hoi! Many questions, my friend... Okay, first: easily. I'm evil, that helps a lot. Second, see first. Third, see second and first, besides, spiders were the logical choice. Forth, read on, dear friend, and ye shall see... *g* Yeah well, you should really choose a drinking game where you don't have to drink just that much - I mean, we didn't even get past Rivendell! What a shame! *g* Thanks for the review!  
Kirsten - *smiles evilly* Thanks a lot. I love writing evil cliffies. They're so much fun. Funny, most people don't seem to enjoy them as much... *g* Thanks a lot for reviewing! It really helps!  
Zam - LOL! Elrond's rading elf porn? Well, that is an interesting idea - disgusting, but interesting, like so many others... *g* Yeah well, I'd already noticed your obsession with Austin Powers, the chapter about your interview with Thranduil was kind of a give-away. Besides, where is your next interview? Huh? Or have you abandoned the story? *teary-eyed* No, you haven't! Just say you haven't! *tries to imagine the shark-horse and falls off her chair laughing* Okay, that was funny! *grins evilly* If you think they have a bad week now, just wait a few chapters... Oh, I love dropping mysterious hints! *cackles evilly*  
Lina - *offended* Seobryn is not a 'lil' whiny, useless boy who couldn't do jack to help (your) baby'. I resent that! And he is most definitely NOT SCUM!! *growls threateningly* I kinda like him! You have an Estel-kitty? Not fair! But then again, I will call my kitten Estel if it's male. *prays that is IS male* LINA! Stop licking his hands, for cryin' out loud! ÉOMER! She ... she ... she ... licked Estel's hands! Enough is enough! *shrieking* Take her away! And, for heaven's sake, take away her spork of doom! - Éomer: Rohirrim! No need to shout at me! - LOL, btw, I think you should treat your bodyguard a little better. Now he is riding 'pathetically' south. That's not a good development... *g*  
Alexa - Uhm, so you liked the ending? *sarcastic smile* Don't worry, this is only the beginning, I wouldn't want to hurt your Leafie or anyone else badly just now - I will save that for later... *g* Thanks so much for your reviews, and don't worry, I would never let your elven prince die. I may be evil, but I'm not stupid! *g*  
Nilbrethiliel - Tja ja, mein Gehirn ist mein groester Schatz - und mein einziger, neben meinem 19'' Monitor... *g* Und du hast Recht, unser kleiner Schmetterling wird mit der Familie wiedervereinigt - das Problem ist nur, dass es eine ziemlich grosse Familie ist... *g* Tut mir leid, *betreten guck* aber die Zwillinge und Elrond muessen weg! Da laeest sich ncihts machen! Aber keine Angst, es gibt ja noch mehr Stories! *g* Na ja, noch ist mit leiden noch nicht so viel, das kommt alles noch, ist doch schliesslich erst der Anfang! Danke fuer die review!!   
Nikara - *nods in sympathy* Yes, I know, FF.net is horrible. It hates me, I think... Huh, you're writing a story! Great! Post it soon! About Legolas family/age: That's a hard question. Legolas age isn't known, and neither is his mother's fate. Some movie-people have figured out something like 2900 years, but I have no idea where they got that from. In Tolkien's main works he never lost a word about that, so nobody really knows. I just thought him to be younger than the twins who are 2889 years old at the Fall of Barad-dûr (ROTK). We don't know anything about his mother, neither her name nor her origin, so we don't know whether she is dead or had passed into the West. But the fact that Tolkien never mentioned a Queen of Mirkwood indicates that she, well, isn't there. So it's all up to you, really. Thanks for the review, and I'll definitely look out for that story of yours!  
Reviewer - *blushes* Thanks so much! I'm doing my best!  
Marbienl - Yes! Write more! Lots more!! Well, I don't prefer 'one chapter', but chapters that are longer than a page are very nice! *hint hint* About the wine: I think I know what you mean, I think it's called wine-cooler in English, although I don't really know - it's very nice though! Especially with strawberries! LOL, I really don't think that Wilwarin is in the danger of the Stockholm-syndrome! She ... uhm, well, doesn't really like elves! *blinks* Yes, I do indeed get the hint, but don't get your hopes up just yet. This is only the beginning, I wouldn't want to hurt my ranger just yet. It would set back his recovery which in term would ruin the whole schedule... *g* Do I still get the plushies? Please? Please Please Please?? *puppy-dog eyes* Oh, and thanks for not poking me!  
Tapetum lucidum - Yeah well, Celylith does fit in, you are right there - but who did give Lord Elrond a spider? That's a story I would very much like to hear! And I agree, wars are entirely unnecessary - just send them over for a visit and Sauron would capitulate in a week! Huh? I could join the Stargate project? Sure! There is the problem that I'm not an US citizen though - besides, I think now that Daniel's gone (or is he already back? ), it's not as funny as it used to be - though I really would love to meet Selmac. I love Jacob/Selmac, don't ask me why...  
Arwen-Evenstar - *grins* I'm evil, don't remind me... *g* Thank you so much for your kind words and all your great reviews! They really encourage me to keep writing! Thanks! *huggles Arwen*  
CrazyLOTRFan - *wide eyes* You like cliffies, then? Then you are just right here, mate - I _love_ them! I'm glad you like it so much, thanks for reviewing!  
Mer - Thanks, I did indeed have a lot of fun! And I will try to keep updating regularly, there is the question whether or not I can keep that up though, college exams are drawing closer... Thanks for the review!  
ManuKu - Du hast ein Glueck mit deinen Kurzurlauben! Aber na ja, momentan ist das Wetter hier so toll, dass man gar nicht weg will! Wirklic, durchgehend blauer Himmel und Sonne - einfach toll! LOL, Winter um Winter? Recht hast du ja irgendwo! Ah, Adruran als Nólads 'Bruder im Geiste'? Na ja, sagen wir mal so: er moechte den Auftrag nicht und will das ganze prefessionell erledigen, aber das mit dem Gewissen ist zumindest nicht bewiesen... Oh, ich wuerde nicht sagen, dass Celylith durchgeknallt ist - eher so was wie 'ungewoehnlich'. Ich gebe mich sowieso nicht mit 'normalen' Leuten ab, also, ich mag ihn! *g* Und Stan und ich verweigern da jeden Kommentar - wir sind naemlich nicht durchgeknallt, nur ... 'anders'. Genau, anders ist gut. LOL, so kann man das auch sehen, Aragorn will ja leiden! Tja, ich fand 'Leafie' auch gut, aber Legolas irgendwie nich' so - keine Ahnung warum! Vielen Dank fuer die beiden reviews! Danke!!  
Cestari - *blushes* Thanks! There's no need to be sorry, I mean, some people DO actually have a life, unlike me... *g* But I'm glad you're reviewing now! *huggles her* Thanks so much!  
Salara - Oh, die Spinnenszene? Wem sagst du das, ich habe naechtelang Albtraeume durchstanden! Ich _hasse_ Spinnen! Und keine Angst - nicht mal die Boeslinge wuerde ich als Spinnensnack enden lassen - das ist zu grausam! Und die Thranduil-Szene ist hier, nur ein bisschen weiterlesen! Ich bemitleide den guten Mann, aeh, Elb wirklich, er kann einem ja auch leidtun, nech? *fieses Grinsen* Du hast es echt mit Elrond, nech? Na ja, jeden das seine, und er hat ja was, das muss ich zugeben! Na ja, danke fuer die review! *knuddelt sie*  
ThE iNsAnE oNe - LOL, so squargs are warg/squirrel hybrids? That is _definitely_ an interesting idea! What do they look like? But I have to admit that wariderels sound very ... nice as well! I mean, they just have to be adorable, being part spider... *g* Sorry, but I can't read your review, the email just stops and FF.net won't show me the rest! *kicks FF.net* We hates it, yes precious, we does... Anyway, I gotta post now, thanks a lot for reviewing!! *huggles TiO and her new pet* Are they ferocious? If yes, then I want one!  
  
  
**Thank God, that's it. I never knew typing was that loud! *holds head* No, j/k, I'm alright actually, just a bit tired... Thanks a lot for the lovely reviews! You guys are the best!**  
  



	5. What Dreams May Come

**Disclaimer: **For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.  
  
  
**A/N:  
  
*grins and pats readers' shoulders* Don't worry, my friends, the spiders won't be back in this story, at least I think so. Perhaps in the next or the one after that, since it would be really cruel not to let Celylith see his little butterfly again, wouldn't you agree?  
  
Just a word of warning: The next weeks (hmm, thinking about it, until end of September, really! *g*) will be quite stressful for me, I'm afraid, and sometimes you just can't escape college, and believe me, I've tried long and hard. So, _don't_ panic, all I'm saying that some updates might not be on time, okay? I will most definitely not abandon this story, never fear, I'm far too obsessed for that...  
  
  
Okay, be that as it may, here's the next bit, and, once again, a little bit angst because I know you love it, and don't even try to deny it! *g* It's just a little bit, anyway...   
Well, so we have ... angry elven twins ... good-byes ... evil men and learn a little bit about Estel's nightmares. *shakes head* Gosh, that boy IS stubborn, isn't he? Oh, and btw, this time I blame the songs "Evenstar" and "Forth Eorlingas" from the TTT soundtrack. *points accusingly at Howard Shore* He makes me write sad things! It's all HIS fault!!  
  
  
So, read on, dear friends, and review, please!  
**  
  
  


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Chapter 5  
  
  
Elrohir's consciousness returned slowly to his comfortably numb body. Slowly was just fine with him, and the dark haired elf saw absolutely no reason to rush things. He didn't really know what he was doing here – wherever 'here' was – and why his neck hurt as if someone or something had just taken a huge chunk out of it, but he was too happy to just lie here with his eyes closed to care.  
  
'Wait a minute,' he thought shortly afterwards, 'With my eyes closed?'  
  
He tried to blink, and when that didn't produce any results whatsoever and his vision still remained dark, he grew a little bit worried. He was lying in a bed that was definitely not his, out of reasons he couldn't remember, and his eyes stubbornly refused to open. The younger twin growled inwardly. If this was another one of Estel's stupid jokes, he would strangle his young human brother, no matter what their father said about it.  
  
Elrohir once again tried to open his eyes, and this time, it worked, Elbereth knew why. This was another thing he would never understand, he thought as he tried to focus on the room he was lying in. He would never understand why one could sometimes recover from unconsciousness much quicker than on other times. It was something he should probably know, but right now he was neither capable nor in the mood for the strain trying to find out would take.  
  
Suddenly a face appeared in his vision, and a rather anxious-looking face at that. With only minimal struggle Elrohir identified it as Elladan's who looked relieved beyond measure as he beamed down on him.  
  
"Brother! You are awake!"  
  
The younger twin resisted the urge to close his eyes and bit back the sarcastic comment that was on the tip of his tongue.  
"Of course I am," he stated, surprised how rough his voice sounded.  
  
His twin hurried to get him some water, and while he was carefully sipping the gloriously cool liquid, he wondered what in Eru's name had happened. Strange imagines swirled before his mind's eye, but he dismissed them quickly. He was the first to admit that Elladan, Estel and he had got into their fair share of trouble during the past decades, but not even they could possibly be that stupid, could they?  
  
When he had emptied the glass, he leaned back into the pillows, noting for the first time that he was in the healing wing in the palace of Mirkwood, a place he seemed to visit far too frequently of late.  
  
He smiled at his brother who was watching him apprehensively.   
  
"I had the strangest dream, brother," he said, frowning as he tried to hold on to some fragments of memory that were trying to slip out of his grasp. "I dreamt we had been ambushed by spiders while trying to get rid of that abominable creature Celylith adores so. Odd, I know, what a perfectly silly dream!"  
  
He heard a chocked, coughing sound behind him and slowly turned his head. He noticed with some annoyance that someone had seen it fit to wrap enough bandages round his neck to ensure that he couldn't move it more than a couple of inches in either direction. Still, it was enough, and so he laid eyes on the Prince of Mirkwood who sat on the windowsill, the pale morning light lighting up his blonde hair so that it seemed that he was surrounded by a soft, golden glow.  
  
Elrohir merely raised a dark eyebrow and waited for the other elf to elaborate.   
  
Legolas shot his friend a lopsided grin, putting the book he had been reading down next to him on the windowsill.  
"Well, it wasn't … exactly … a dream."  
  
The younger twin raised his other eyebrow, a perfect picture of someone who knows something to be true but desperately wishes it weren't so.  
  
"All of it was real? It really happened?" he asked in a hopeless tone of voice.  
  
His twin that had been walking around his bed sat down on the edge of the mattress. He shot his brother a wry look.  
"Yes."  
  
"Valar," Elrohir breathed and closed his eyes. After a second he opened them again and fixed an intense stare on Elladan's face, worry and slight panic in the grey depths. "Estel? Celylith? Are they alright?"  
  
Elladan nodded quickly to reassure him.  
"Yes, they are fine. Estel sleeps in his rooms and Celylith … where is Celylith?" he asked, turning to his elven friend while he placed one of his hands on his brother's to stop him from fiddling with the bandage that wound round his neck.  
  
Legolas grimaced slightly.  
"Sulking, I think. He _really_ liked that spider."  
  
Elrohir snorted, sounding disconcertingly like his father.  
"Oh yes, and why would he not? It was _adorable_ after all… But please, tell me, what exactly did happen? I can remember letting Wilwarin go, thinking of many different ways of hurting Celylith and then … nothing."  
  
Elladan smiled at his brother, inwardly thinking how hard it was to keep his younger siblings from harm. He had always thought Elrohir and Arwen were bad enough, but since Estel had joined their little family he had been shown how naïve that assumption had been.  
  
"If you promise to lie back and relax we will tell you," he announced, giving his younger elven brother a stern look. "If father comes to check on you and finds that you are not rested enough, we will have to stay here. And I really do not think that that would agree with Hithrawyn's sanity."  
  
The elven prince winced at his friend's words. Yes, Hithrawyn looked very … stressed lately. One could even say he was on the brink of insanity and with one foot already on the way down the dark abyss of madness. He was sure that the healer would either leave for the Grey Havens or do something truly drastic to all of them if the twins didn't leave soon.  
  
He listened quietly while Elladan described what had happened since the younger twin had gone down at the beginning of the fight, only interrupting to correct small mistakes or exaggerations so gross that not even he could ignore them.  
  
It had been close, he mused as he listened to a slightly distorted version of how they had retreated into the direction of the path (funny, he couldn't remember screaming repeatedly 'Have at thee, foul beast!'). Far too close for his liking. Those things had very nearly eaten all of them. And, knowing the kind of luck that seemed to follow Estel wherever the young human went, things would only get progressively worse from this point on.  
  
'A Elbereth,' he thought, 'I will have to do better than this if I want that reckless human to survive even a week here! There is no telling what trouble we will get into next…'  
  
"… and then we got caught by the palace guards."  
  
"You got what?" Elrohir queried, grinning broadly now.  
  
"Caught by the palace guards," Legolas repeated Elladan's words, giving the younger twin a nasty look. "You are a lot heavier than you look, did you know that?"  
  
"What_?_" Elrohir hissed, eyes blazing with indignation.  
  
"Oh, you heard me, son of Elrond," the prince repeated, apparently not intimidated by the dangerous glint that had appeared in the dark haired elf's eyes. "I always knew you werea _peredhel_, but I never knew you had some dwarf-blood as well."  
  
"_What??_" both twins repeated, glaring at their snickering friend who was slowly backing away from them.   
  
"I really don't think…" Elladan began.  
  
"…that we can stand for this, brother," Elrohir finished his brother's sentence, about to climb out of his bed. "In fact, I think we should…"  
  
"…teach young Thranduilion here a lesson. I agree."  
  
Legolas only laughed harder, looking at the slowly advancing twins with mock concern.  
"Really, Elrohir, you should lie down and rest! I don't think you should put any weight on that leg just yet. What would your father say if he saw you like this?"  
  
"He would ask, young prince, what exactly he thought he was doing," Elrond's soft voice interjected, causing all of them to freeze and look guiltily at the elf lord who had just entered the room.   
  
Legolas shook his head in amazement. How was Lord Elrond doing this? To appear out of nowhere every time one did expect him the least to was truly a rare gift. He unconsciously rubbed the spot on his chest where the half-healed cut was located. Well, it was healing well, Lord Elrond couldn't be after _him_ this time.  
  
"I, uhm, I…" Elrohir stammered, looking at his twin with wide eyes, silently pleading for help. Elladan could only stare back however; he just couldn't think of a suitable excuse himself. This seemed to happen to them more and more frequently of late. Their father either grew stealthier with every year that passed, or their ability to detect the presence of others was slowly but steadily diminishing.  
  
The fair haired elf would have grinned if Lord Elrond hadn't been present. It was a memorable sight indeed to see the usually so eloquent Elrohir at a loss for words.  
  
"I see," Elrond said wryly, raising an amused eyebrow as Elladan helped his brother to lie down again. Just as Elrohir opened his mouth, he added, "And I know you feel fine. And, this time, I even believe you."  
  
The three young ones' mouths fell open.  
  
"You believe me?" Elrohir asked, inconspicuously eyeing his father for signs of illness. Perhaps the stress of having to patch them up yet again had been too much for him? He had never before believed him, Elladan, Estel or any other of his patients who insisted to be fine, at least not for the past 1500 years.   
  
"Yes," his father stated calmly, acting as if that statement was the most normal thing in the world.  
  
"Oh," was the only thing the younger twin could think of, totally unable to come to terms with Elrond's sudden change of behaviour.   
  
Elladan was the first to recover from the shock.  
"We'll be going, then," he said quickly, shooting Legolas a furtive glance and reaching out to help his younger brother to his feet, unwilling to let this unique chance pass by.  
  
Before Elrohir could even straighten up though, a slender hand shot out and pressed him back down.  
  
"I said I believed you," the Lord of Rivendell said with a small grin that was more than a little bit smug, "I didn't say you could leave that bed."  
  
"But, _ada_…"  
  
Elrond gave his younger elven son the _look_ which caused him to fall silent immediately.   
'At least it is working on _someone_ around here,' Elrond thought pleased, remembering how much more 'persuasion' was necessary to make his human son comply.  
  
"I mean it, my son," he said, busying himself with changing the bandages on Elrohir's already half-healed leg. "If we want to leave tomorrow, – and I would strongly recommend it, and not only for Hithrawyn's sake – you will need all your strength. Do not be mistaken, Elrohir," he said, gazing at the younger elf seriously, "You will feel weaker than usual for quite a bit, I fear. Elves do have the best chances of survival when it comes to spider bites in general, but somehow the dwarves are the race best equipped to deal with the after-effects."  
  
"Oh, then there's no need to worry, my lord," Legolas mumbled, doing his best to hide the wide grin that was forming on his lips. "He'll be back to normal in no time."  
  
Elladan and Elrohir shot the blonde prince a look so scathing that it surely would have caused Gandalf to jump to his feet and clap enthusiastically while their father merely gave him a mildly questioning stare.   
  
Looking at the murderous faces in front of him, Legolas decided that he had definitely overstayed his welcome here and rose to his feet.   
  
"My lord," he said, inclining his head to a slightly startled Elrond, "Now that I know that your son will make a full recovery, I think I will go and see how Estel is doing; he should wake as well in a few hours."  
  
The Prince of Mirkwood turned and walked out of the door, his light footfall quickly fading in the distance.  
  
Elrond turned back to his sons, about to ask them what this was all about, but when he saw the dangerous glint in their eyes, he quickly reconsidered. He really didn't want to know, he decided with an inward sigh, this way he could later claim that he hadn't known about it when the twins did it to Legolas, whatever 'it' may turn out to be.  
  
But one thing he knew for sure, and that was that he didn't want to be in the proximity when 'it' happened, not for all the mithril in the world.  
  
  
  
  
Aragorn was pulled out of a dreamless sleep to awareness rather abruptly, leaving him to wonder what it had been that had caused this to happen.  
  
Soon, however, it became apparent: Somebody or something was pulling on his left arm with enough force to wrench the whole appendage from its socket.  
  
He mumbled something unintelligible under his breath, something that, had it been understandable, would have been highly insulting to whomever was disturbing his rest. A second later however, a clear, pealing laughter could be heard, and Aragorn burrowed his head in his pillow. Couldn't Legolas leave him alone for once?  
  
"Go 'way," he muttered, trying to drift back to sleep.  
  
"'Tis already late morning, my friend," the Prince of Mirkwood said cheerfully, once again tugging on the young human's arm. "Get up. Do all humans need this much sleep?"  
  
"No," Aragorn grumbled irritably, "Only if we are up all night and are being chased by spiders. Then we do. Now leave me alone."  
  
"No," Legolas simply said, pulling on the other arm for a change. "I have already had a highly unpleasant talk with my father, so the least you could do is get up and keep me company."  
  
At that the ranger opened one eye, looking his friend over who was sitting on the edge. When he had made sure that Legolas seemed to be in good health and was apparently missing no limbs, he closed it again with a tired sigh.  
  
"Go 'way," he repeated, pulling his covers over his head. "_Ada's_ sleeping draughts are always quite potent, it's a miracle you managed to wake me up at all. Your father has obviously not harmed you, so now be quiet and let me sleep."  
  
Legolas rolled his eyes and began to peel back the multiple blankets his friend had pulled over his head. He had almost forgotten how many layers humans needed to keep themselves warm in winter, it was a miracle they didn't suffocate under the weight.  
  
"Please, Aragorn," he said earnestly when he had managed to expose his friend's dark head. "They can be here any minute now. Get up. Now!"  
  
That got the young man's attention.  
"Who?" he asked suspiciously, reluctantly lifting his head.  
  
"Your brothers," Legolas answered, cocking his head to one side to listen for any sounds that might indicate that said elves were nearing the room. "Your father will have released them by now, I think, and it shouldn't take them too long to find out where I am."   
  
He didn't mention to his human friend that he – in a fit of temporary insanity – had told them himself.  
  
"What have you done now?" Aragorn asked tiredly, sitting up and glaring at his friend.  
  
Legolas scowled at the dark haired human. As if it was_ him_ that was getting them constantly into trouble!  
  
"_I_ have done nothing, human," he said indignantly. "It is hardly my fault if your brothers behave childish and erratic, is it?"  
  
Aragorn merely looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and Legolas shrugged while he got to his feet and looked around the room for some of the ranger's clothes.  
  
"Well," the elf admitted, taking up a dark tunic and throwing it into the direction of the bed, "We might have had a small disagreement."  
  
"About what?" his friend questioned, catching the garment and preparing to pull it over his head.  
  
"Ah…" Legolas sighed, picking up the young man's boots and breeches and dumping them on his bed, one ear always attuned to their surroundings. "I think it was a disagreement concerning their ancestry…"  
  
Aragorn winced.  
"What exactly did you say?"  
  
Legolas turned back to the door, listening intently now.  
"Oh, not much…"  
  
"Legolas!!"  
  
The prince turned to the half-dressed human who was about to put on his boots.  
"Well, the term 'dwarven ancestry' might have been mentioned."  
  
Aragorn stared at the prince.  
"You called them dwarves?"  
  
The blonde elf nodded a little bit sheepishly.  
"Something like that, yes."  
  
His human friend shook his head, looking around his room. Legolas, in the belief he knew what the man was looking for, grabbed a hairbrush that was lying on a shelf next to him.  
  
"Here," he said, tossing the object to Aragorn.  
  
The ranger just stared at the brush, turning confused eyes on the elven prince.  
"And what should I do with this?"  
  
Legolas returned the stare in kind.  
"Brush your hair. That's what brushes are for, brushing one's hair."  
  
Aragorn snorted, tossing the brush back.  
"Well, I am sure you do a lot of that, elf, but I was looking for my weapons. Brushes won't help us with my brothers. You are as good as dead."  
  
"No," Legolas protested, giving his friend a wicked grin and taking a step forward to grab the other's sleeve, "We are, _mellonamin_. You are coming with me."  
  
"Oh, am I?" the dark haired ranger asked, trying to twist out of his friend's grasp.  
  
"Yes, Strider, you are. The twins won't dare hurt you, and that is the reason why I won't let you out of my sight until they're gone."  
  
"So you would hide behind me, o mighty Prince of Mirkwood?" Aragorn teased, allowing the fair haired elf to pull him with him down the corridor.  
  
"Definitely," Legolas retorted, grinning at the human. "If the matter has any ties whatsoever to those two, I am willing to use whatever means I have to make sure they don't catch me alone."  
  
How true, Aragorn thought as they were making their way down to the Great Hall, Legolas looking anxiously over his shoulder every so often. He could very well relate to that feeling.  
  
  
  
  
Elrond hid an amused smile, watching his twin sons who eyed the Prince of Mirkwood very much like a pair of predators that were stalking a victim just out of their reach. Actually, they had looked like this since yesterday morning, which had been the moment the blonde elf had decided not to leave his human son's side again in a desperate attempt to save his life, or at least his dignity, for whatever the twins had planned, it just couldn't be good.  
  
And Legolas really hadn't left Aragorn's side for a moment, it was almost as if someone had tied those two together with a length of invisible cord. But then again, Elrond could understand that perfectly well. The twins would never let their little brother get in the way of their revenge, and so they had been condemned to doing nothing.  
  
He shook his head slowly as he guided his horse round a fallen tree that blocked the path leading from the palace to the west. He would actually miss the chaos those four seemed to create whenever they were together, he admitted to himself. But this was the best for all of them; the three moths would provide him with enough time to recover his strength, and Estel really wasn't up to the long, arduous journey that lay ahead of them. They had probably already lingered for too long, for the promise of snow lay already heavily in the air.  
  
"Amazing," a wry voice next to him commented, and the Lord of Rivendell looked up into the fair face of the King of Mirkwood, who had decided to escort them a few miles to the west. In Elrond's opinion it was to make sure that they truly left his realm, but it may have been to make sure that Legolas didn't get attacked by another horde of spiders.  
  
"What is amazing, my friend?" he asked, smiling at the other elf.  
  
"I think it is the first time that I have witnessed the failure of one of the twins' plans," Thranduil said, casting a quick look behind him to survey the small troupe of warriors that followed them.  
  
"You should savour this moment, your Highness," Elrond said, his smile broadening. "'Tis truly a rare occurrence, and I doubt we will see it again in this age. Your son is very wise and crafty indeed if he has managed to avoid them this long."  
  
"That he is, my lord, that he is," Thranduil said, more than a little bit of paternal pride in his voice. Changing the topic, he asked, "So you will accept the escort?"  
  
Elrond sighed softly.  
"If you insist, your Majesty."  
  
"I insist, Lord Elrond," the golden haired king assured the other elf lord. "Lord Glorfindel would have my head if I let anything happen to you or your sons. As would the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien, Mithrandir, Lord Círdan, Estel and countless other people. The warriors will travel on to Lórien, they have business there anyway."  
  
"In that case, we gladly accept your generous offer," the dark haired elf nodded gratefully, turning very serious. "I am deeply in your debt and that of your healers. You have given back to me what I had already thought lost forever."  
  
Thranduil only inclined his head solemnly.  
"It was nothing, my lord. It was nothing more than every other would have done as well. Besides," he looked at the Master of Rivendell seriously, "it was no more than you have done for my son countless times."  
  
Both of them remained silent for a while, listening to the taunts and jokes that the three brothers, Legolas and the younger members of the guard exchanged.  
  
"One day though, Aragorn will…" Thranduil carefully began after a short while.  
  
Elrond's head shot up, his face expressionless and his eyes cold as ice.  
"I know. Oh, I know only too well. But … not now, not yet. I hope to be in the Undying Lands with my wife when that happens." He took a deep breath and added in a whisper, "But it will hurt just as much, perhaps even more."  
  
"I know, my friend," Thranduil agreed softly, his eyes distant with dark memories. "It always does, no matter how much time you had to prepare yourself."  
  
"Aye," the elf lord said sadly, thinking of his twin brother Elros who had left this world so many ages ago. "Aye, it does."  
  
They rode on in silence until the king called for a stop, reining back his horse.  
  
"This is where we leave you, my lord," he said, forcefully pushing down the black mood. "I fear that if we accompany you any further, something terribly might befall all of us. Travelling with these four is a kind of invitation, I fear."  
  
Ignoring the indignant sounds of protest, Elrond nodded, his eyes still a little darker than usual.  
"We thank you for your hospitality, Lord Thranduil. Please give my regards and unending gratitude to your master healer."  
  
Thranduil nodded, hiding a smile.  
"I will, Lord Elrond. May we meet again under more fortunate circumstances than this time."  
  
Behind them, the three brothers and Legolas were just biding each other farewell.  
  
"Take care, little one," Elladan said, tousling his younger brother's hair. "And please, do not get yourself in another one of your 'situations', I really do not want to save your hide yet again."  
  
Aragorn scowled at him although there was a playful twinkle in his eyes.  
"Don't worry, o ancient one," he retorted, ducking quickly when Elladan aimed a swipe at his scratched forehead. "Legolas will be there to help me if I do."  
  
Elrohir snorted.  
"Ha, as if that's going to do any good," he muttered, earning himself a dark glare from the elven prince who was carefully staying out of their reach and who now spurred on his horse to join his father. The twin turned to his human brother, a hurt look in his bright eyes. "I still don't see why you didn't help us, Estel. You are our brother, after all!"  
  
Estel shook his head, chuckling merrily.  
"He is my friend, and I know exactly what you are capable of. It would have been nothing else but homicide to do so."  
  
"Traitor," Elrohir muttered, but quickly pulled his young brother into a brief hug, wincing when his still sore neck protested. "Be careful, Estel. Come back to us safely in the spring."  
  
"I will," Aragorn assured his brothers as they closed the distance to their father and King Thranduil. "Nothing will happen, and I will be back before you know it. You two take care yourselves."  
  
Lord Elrond and the King of Mirkwood were watching the brothers say good-bye when Legolas joined them, smiling slightly at the Lord of Imladris.  
  
"Safe journey, my lord," he said, bowing slightly in the saddle. "May you and your sons reach your home without incident for once. I seem to be unable to do so."  
  
Elrond returned the smile.  
"I have noticed, young one." He looked at the elven prince gravely. "Look after him, please. He will need your help, and not only to keep him out of trouble."  
  
Legolas nodded, returning the other's stare unblinkingly.  
"I will do everything in my power to keep him safe. No harm will befall him if I can help it, that I swear."  
  
The dark haired elf nodded his thanks.  
"Thank you, young prince. May the Valar watch over you until we meet again."  
  
By now the three brothers had reached them, and Aragorn manoeuvred his horse next to his father's to give him a quick hug.  
"Namárië, father. May Elbereth watch over your path."   
  
"And over yours, my son," Elrond replied, letting go of the human and giving him a fond smile. "We will expect you as soon as the snow has melted and, if possible, in one piece."  
  
Aragorn only smiled.  
"I will try."  
  
"That is all I ask for," his foster father said, his smile broadening. "Namárië."  
  
With one last look at their human son and brother, Elrond and the twins turned their horses and slowly rode down the path leading to the Misty Mountains and the High Pass that would take the small group of elves into the lands of Eriador and finally to the Elf-haven known in the common tongue as Rivendell.  
  
Aragorn looked after his family until they disappeared from his human eyesight. It would actually be a nice change not to be mothered all the time, but still, he would miss them…  
  
Legolas shot his sombre friend a quick look and said, trying to lighten the mood,  
  
"Well, that was interesting."  
  
The ranger quickly shook his head and looked at his friend.  
"You have no idea how lucky you are, my friend. This is the first time that I have seen one of their plans fail. But don't feel too safe just yet. They might have bribed some of the servant staff."  
  
Legolas very nearly toppled off Rashwe's back at that. That was a possibility he hadn't even considered.  
"Do you really think so?" he asked the broadly grinning human, looking at him in fright.  
  
Aragorn shook his head laughing.  
"Peace, Legolas. No, I was merely joking. I think you should be reasonably safe." He made a mental note to remind Legolas to enter his room through the window, just in case. One could never know what kinds of booby-traps the twins had left behind.  
  
Legolas gave his friend a mock glare.  
"That was not funny, Estel!"  
  
The young man only grinned more broadly and spurred on his horse, steering the beast into the direction of the palace.  
  
"Oh, but it was! You should have seen the look of absolute panic on your face," he called over his shoulder, giving Legolas a sly look. "Leafie."  
  
Thranduil watched his son's face turned a rather interesting shade of pink up to the tips of his pointed ears, a colour rather unbecoming an elven warrior.  
  
"Strider!" the prince called after his laughing friend, spurring on his horse to catch up with him, "You promised!"  
  
"I did not!" sounded the human's reply.  
  
"You just wait, human," Legolas grumbled quite audibly as he disappeared out of view, "You just wait. There is nobody here to save you now. Three months are a very, _very_ long time."  
  
The woodland king stifled a smile and motioned his guards to precede him, which they did, the older elves mumbling about the irresponsibility of youth and the general lack of respect said youth was willing to pay their elders.  
  
He had to agree, Thranduil thought as he was riding through the dark woods of his home, three months were an impossibly long amount of time.  
  
  
  
  
Adruran sighed, running a callous hand over his tired eyes.  
  
Six days.   
  
They had been here six days, and except for rumours and gossip they had learned effectively nothing, much to his dismay.  
And unless they found out something soon, he would have to send a report to his lord, admitting their failure. And after that he could as well slit his wrists, for that would be a lot better than what would wait for him if he returned home empty-handed.  
  
'Eru,' he cursed silently, letting his gaze wander over the tiny room he had rented in one of Lake-town's many inns, 'How did it all go so very wrong?'  
  
The room offered no answer to that, of course, not that he had really expected it to. Just when Adruran was beginning to question his own sanity at having taken on this assignment, a knock sounded on the door and Tiddryr, his lieutenant, entered the room. His superior noted with satisfaction that the younger man was all but melting into the shadows that lay heavily on the creaking floor boards of the room and that his passage made nearly no sound.  
  
'Well,' he thought, 'Not as good as a ranger, but a close second.'  
  
Tiddryr grinned at his captain, a single ray of moonlight highlighting his copper hair.   
"We've got a lead."  
  
The brown haired man sat up on his bed, eyes gleaming with interest and carefully masked hope now.  
"What?"  
  
The other stepped closer, relief visible on his face as well. Nobody wanted to get on their lord's bad side.  
"Geran and his group found someone who might know where they have disappeared to."  
  
Adruran slowly got to his feet, his thoughts racing. Before entering Esgaroth he had divided his men into four groups to avoid any unnecessary attention a group of twenty strangers might attract. He and five of his men had entered the newly rebuilt city via the large wooden bridge that led into the centre of the town that was built half on the shores and half on the Long Lake itself. The other groups had chosen smaller bridges and gates to get into the settlement, and they had taken up residence in inns in different parts of the town. One could say what one wanted about Adruran, but he was neither careless nor stupid.  
  
He walked over to the window that overlooked the broad canal that ran between two rows of houses standing on high poles, the shimmering surface already covered with a thin sheet of silvery ice.  
  
"Has he now?" he asked softly, gazing at the water. He just couldn't understand why the Lake-men hadn't rebuilt the city entirely on the shores as the old city had once been, before the coming of the dragon. With Smaug dead, there was no longer a need to take refuge on the surface of the lake, but it had probably something to do with tradition and all that.  
  
Adruran snorted. Tradition! Just another thing that would be swept away once his lord was ready to take what should be his.  
  
"Sir?" Tiddryr asked, slight confusion colouring the word.  
  
The tall man at the window straightened his shoulders and turned back to his lieutenant.  
"Where is he now?"  
  
"Geran and the others are waiting in the western part of town, beyond the wooden bridge on the shore. The target is in one of the inns near the fish market there. He is awaiting your orders," Tiddryr reported.  
  
Adruran nodded in satisfaction. Perhaps he had misjudged Geran after all. His actions in this matter had been exemplary this far.   
"Alright, take me to them. It is time to get this thing finally started."  
  
The red haired man nodded and turned on his heel, leaving the room as soundlessly as he had come. Adruran quickly took up his thick winter cloak and fastened it around his neck, made sure his second knife was in the hidden sheath strapped to his left forearm and prepared to follow the other.  
  
Indeed, it was time to do his job. He was tired of watching and waiting in the shadows. The sooner that 'someone' told him what he wanted to know, the sooner they could leave and get what his lord wanted.  
  
He smiled grimly when he stepped out into the cold night air, his eyes flickering toward the heavens that were shrouded in dark grey clouds heavy with the promise of snow.   
  
And tell him the man would. They all did, sooner or later. Most just needed the right kind of encouragement, which he was more than prepared to provide.  
  
As long as he got to leave this accursed town, he didn't care if he had to twist an arm or two.  
  
  
  
  
Legolas awoke in the darkness of his room, blinking once to help his eyes adjust to the near-complete blackness. He frowned and tried to discern what exactly it had been that had woken him, but as far as he could see, there was nothing amiss in his room. There was no one else here and everything was still and quiet, except for the occasional ruffling of the embroidered curtains that moved in the night breeze, letting a gush of cold air into the room once in a while.  
  
That was nothing that could have bothered him; he was an elf after all and not nearly as bothered by the cold as a human would be.  
He leaned back into his pillow and once again tried to fall asleep. He had probably imagined things, even if that was highly unusual for him…  
  
When he was just about to drift back into the realm of elvish sleep, he heard something, a sound so soft that he had almost missed it. Legolas sat up, knitting his brow as he tried to discover where it had come from. It didn't sound as if it had come from within his rooms, besides, he would have sensed it if someone else had been present; that left only…  
  
"Aragorn," he breathed softly when he heard it again, a soft sound somewhere between a whimper and a small moan. The prince quickly got up and donned a dark tunic, ran a hand through his un-braided hair and opened his door, listening intently for any sounds that might indicate that someone else was out in the corridor. His father really didn't like it when he was sneaking around the palace at night.  
  
Legolas quietly closed his door and quickly moved over to the one leading to his human friend's rooms that was only a few feet away from his own. Not even bothering with knocking, he soundlessly opened to double door and slipped inside.  
  
The room was dark except for the soft glow of a dying fire that still flickered weakly in the hearth, casting a soft golden glow over its surroundings. Legolas frowned; if the fire was still burning, Aragorn hadn't gone to sleep until one or two hours ago. He had already suspected something like this. To every seeing person it was obvious that the young ranger didn't sleep well or enough, and the dark circles under his eyes had been ever deepening since Lord Elrond and the twins had left five days ago.  
  
Quietly, the elven prince stepped closer to the bed, casting worried eyes on the fitfully sleeping form of his human friend. Aragorn's forehead was creased in a frown, and his hands balled into tight fists at his sides. His eyes moved restlessly under the closed lids and he tossed his head from side to side in obvious agitation, an agonised expression on his face.  
  
Another small whimper escaped the young man's throat.  
"No … please … not again … father … I can't ... not him too, please ... No!!"  
  
Legolas clenched his teeth when he heard the pain and despair in his friend's voice. He quickly closed the distance between them, sitting down on the edge of the bed.  
  
"Aragorn!" he called softly in the grey tongue, taking the ranger's shoulders and shaking him lightly. "Estel! Wake up, 'tis nothing but a dream! Wake up, my friend!"  
  
The dark haired human's eyes shot open, pure panic in their silver depths. He made a move as if to start fighting against the hands that held his shoulders, but did a double-take when he finally recognised the person that was bending over him.  
  
"Legolas?" he asked in a weak voice, tense muscles slowly relaxing. "What…"  
  
Now certain that Aragorn was aware of his surroundings, Legolas let slowly go of his shoulders, watching the confused, drained face in front of him.  
"I heard you cry out in your sleep," he explained softly.  
  
"Oh," the young ranger muttered, sitting up and burying his face in his hands. After a few seconds he pushed back the covers, got up and stumbled over to the wrought metal basin filled with cold water and, without hesitation, dunked his head into it.  
  
Just when Legolas was about to go and check if he had perhaps drowned, the dark head emerged, spluttering and shivering in the cool air. The fair haired elf watched silently how his friend grabbed a towel and rubbed his hair and face vigorously, as if to chase away the last shreds of the dream. Finally he returned to the bed and dropped heavily onto it.  
  
"Thank you," he quietly said, lowering his eyes. "I am sorry for having woken you. I'm alright now."  
  
Legolas just stared at him in disbelief.  
"Alright? Estel, if I have ever seen someone further away from 'alright' I can certainly not remember it!"  
  
Estel just stared emotionlessly at his hands.  
"I'm fine. As you said, it was just a dream."  
  
"But it wasn't the first one!" Legolas exclaimed, glaring at his friend. "Don't even try to tell me otherwise! I know you are having them again since your father left."  
  
The man only shrugged, still scrutinising his hands. What Legolas said was true enough, but what was he supposed to say?  
  
The elven prince looked imploringly at his friend.  
"Tell me," he said softly, although he had a rather good impression of what the dreams were about. "Tell me what it is that haunts your sleep, my friend. It might help you to overcome this."  
  
"No!" Aragorn's head shot up, eyes huge and dark in his pale face. "I … I will not burden you with this, _mellonamin_. Please, do not ask me to."  
  
Legolas gazed sadly at his human friend, inwardly cursing the entire Line of Elros and its members' stubbornness. But, he told himself, forcing Aragorn to talk about the nightmares would probably do more harm than good.  
  
He bowed his head, silently vowing not to give up this easily.  
"As you wish."  
  
Aragorn looked as if he wanted to say something, but obviously thought better of it and simply nodded his head in gratitude.  
  
"Thank you," he said quietly, giving his friend a hesitant smile. After a few seconds during which he desperately tried to come up with a way to lead Legolas' attention away from the former topic, he asked,   
  
"Have you asked your father for permission?"  
  
Legolas looked sharply at the young ranger, but decided to go along with Aragorn's change of topics.  
"Actually, I have."  
  
Estel looked at him, a real smile slowly beginning to spread over his face.  
"And, what did he say?"  
  
The elven prince returned the smile, rising to his feet to stoke the fire.  
"Well, first he stared at me. Then he began laughing loudly, and when he realised I was being serious, he started yelling at me." The smile on his face broadened. "In the end he promised he would think about it."  
  
"So he will permit us to escort Seobryn to Lake-town?" the dark haired human asked eagerly, suppressing a yawn.  
  
"I think so," Legolas replied. "There's at least a good chance since Esgaroth isn't far away."  
  
He watched as Aragorn's eyes began to drop and the young ranger pried them open again. Hesitantly, he offered, "If you want to, I can get you something that'll help you…"  
  
"No," Aragorn quickly replied, shaking his head. "I cannot take sleeping draughts indefinitely; besides, it will never come twice in the same night, and not if there was someone here."  
  
Legolas shook his head, sighing loudly.  
"You are so stubborn, reckless human."  
  
"As are you, elf," the other replied, sleepily.  
  
The prince snorted softly, sitting down on an armchair in one of the dark corners.  
"Go to sleep, Strider. If my father allows us to go, we will need to leave in a few days. I can't have you dropping off your horse because you can't keep your eyes open."  
  
Aragorn opened one eye and glared at his friend.  
"I never fall off a horse!"  
  
"Of course you don't, Estel," Legolas reassured him with a wicked grin. "Sleep now."  
  
The ranger was too exhausted to argue with the elf, and, not even thinking to ask why his friend wasn't returning to his own room, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, forcefully pushing back the fears that tore at his soul, fears that the dreams would return to haunt him.  
  
Legolas settled down into the padded armchair, relaxing as he watched the young human fall asleep. He rested his head against the soft back of the chair, hoping that his father would allow them to go. The little journey might be enough to distract Aragorn from his dreams, since he would surely love to accompany Seobryn and had often talked about how much he had always wished to visit Lake-town.  
  
The elven prince smiled thinly, his eyes not leaving the sleeping form of his friend. He would stay here tonight; sleep would elude him anyway after this. And if his friend could draw some comfort from his presence, then he was more than willing to stay.  
  
He once again shook his head, marvelling at the stubbornness of Lord Elrond's family. One of them was worse than the other, and in his opinion Aragorn topped them all.  
  
But, he thought grimly, that stubbornness had gone far enough. Should he ever witness Aragorn having these nightmares again, he _would _make him tell him about them, even if he had to break every single of the human's bones to achieve that goal.  
He wouldn't watch one of his friends, and his best friend at that, suffer like this, not if he could do anything to ease the pain.  
  
With that promise on his mind, Legolas curled up in the chair to watch over the young human and make sure that nothing unfriendly disturbed his rest once more this night.  
  
  
  
  
  
**TBC...  
  
  
  
  
  
** _peredhel - Half-elf  
ada - father (daddy)  
mellonamin - my friend  
  
  
  
  
_**Ah, yes, and the plot thickens! *g* What will happen? The answer to that is rather simple, dear readers: A lot, and most of it unpleasant. Mhahahaha! *runs away cackling maniacally* Gosh, I'd better stop doing that... *shakes head in disgust*** **Okay, so stay tuned for the next chapter which has even _more_ of the evil men and a conspiracy that unfolds in Mirkwood. *shivers in anticipation* I love dropping mysterious hints... *g*  
Okay, so please review? For some reason I cannot even begin to comprehend FF.net once again screwed with my reviews - but still! Pretty please??  
  
  
  
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**Additional A/N:  
  
**Gwyn - *sighs* I know, studying.... Highly overrated, in my opinion, but from time to time necessary nonetheless. Unfortunately. *g* 'Until Legolas finds himself at death's door'? Gosh, you _are_ bloodthirsty, but let me think .... I guess that would be a careful chapter 8. Might be 9 though, I've only just started writing it, so I don't know yet.   
Halo - *blushes* Is 'reckon' wrong? Is it an American slang term or something? That is the problem with me, I read or hear things like that and just use them. *shakes Halo* Is it wrong? Tell me!!! And sorry to disappoint you, but there'll be no killing poor Celylith. After Nólad you guays would probablly kill me... admit it! *huggles Halo* Thanks for reviewing!  
Mer - As I said, that happens sometimes. You've just got to wait for a few hours, usually FF.net just needs some time to ... do whatever FF.net does when you post a new chppie. *shrugs* This website will remain a mystery to me. Thanks for the mail!  
TrinityTheSheDevil - *g* Thank you very much. I very much enjoy being evil, I've always though good guys are boring - most of the time, anyway. Glad you like your new pet spider, but don't forget ickle Stan. He likes gnawing a little on a little too obsessed reviewers... *g* Thanks, I got some rest, but with a paper on Hannibal due in a week, I don't think that will last long... Thanks for the review!  
Coreinha - I do NOT have an obsession with arachnids! I resent that! I hate spiders - but I kinda liked Wilwarin... She was cute. Oh, and don't worry about Elrond and Thranduil. They are too happy to have them all back alive to do anything ... drastic to them. *fearfully eyes Coreinha and her squirrel* Well, calm down, the update's here! See? And rthey are fine - physically, that is... *casts down eyes* I will read your fics - some day. I just can't right now, there is so much to do and I have barely enought ime to write my own and... *takes deep breath* Later. In a lifetime or two, I think, okay?   
Firnsarnien - Well, the *look* is a version of my mother's look, actually... I know she's merely a mortal and all that, but hers is ... terrible. Never get my mother angry at you. *shudders* The twins, Aragorn and Legolas are trouble-magnets? *sarcastic, cynic voice* No, really? I hadn't noticed! What do you mean, ch 5 wasn't so bad on the cliffy? There _was_ no cliffy, for cryin' out loud! The next real cliffy is coming up in ch 7, I think. Great you still like it, though. Thanks!  
Kaeera - Ja, ich weiss, FF.net kann einen ganz schoen fertigmachen, huh? Am besten keine scharfebn Gegenstaende in der Naehe des PCs rumliegen lassen, das ist meine Devise. *guckt Kaeera von der Seite an* Du mochtest also das Kap.? Na, dann keine Sorge, in diesem wacht dein Lieblingszwilling auf. *fieses Grinsen* Da hast du mir aber eine wirklich gute Idee gegeben! Ich meine, das waere doch mal was, eine Elrond/Thranduil geraten in Schwierigkeiten Geschichte! *Haendereib* Das waer doch mal was... Uhm, nun haben sie Granatwerfer? Das ist gar nicht gut, da verdrueck ich mich doch mal lieber! Ciao!  
Mouse - Ah well, I don't think Legolas will enjoy it too much though - Thranduil has no sense of humour whatsoever sometimes... *g* Poor Leafie indeed... Great you still like it! Thanks for the review!  
Jenny - Hoi! Jenny! *huggles her* You! I remember you! Thanks for reviewing again!And yes, I stayed behind to watch the trailer for the third movie, but somhow I think it just made it worse... Whatever. Thanks for reviewing!  
ManuKu - *wink muede ab* Ach, das war doch nicht grauslich! Und das v.a. aus dem Munde einer Autorin, die gerade ein paar Menschen von Fledermaeusen in Hackfleisch hat verarbeiten lassen... Tja, Legolas hat's erfasst: Sauron ist nichts gegen Elrond. Finde ich auch, uebrigens. *fieses Grinsen* 'Wann ich ihnen so endlich wehtun werde'? Lass mich ueberlegen, wir haben in naher Zukunft noch ein wenig Aragorn angst, aber wehtun ... Ich glaube das ist in ch 8, und zwar mal zur Abwechslung Legolas. *zuckt Schultern* So ist das Leben, armer Leafie.  
Helen T - Well, no, Aragorn's not well yet. I mean, Númenórean or not, sometimes you just need some time to get over things... And _I_ know that he should talk about them, but you try telling him that! I tried to get him to talk to Legolas in this chapter, but he just refused! I tried the same with Celylith in chapter 7, but still nothing! I don't know what to do! *g* Thanks for the review!  
Cestari - Well, I'll admit that Celylith is a bit ... strange, yes, but he just ... likes spiders? The spider-bite- healing-thing: Nope, I don't think so. That's just one of the things that demanded to be written, I don't know why either. Perhaps I'll put it in another story. Well, my head hurt a bit because I was tired and because I really should have declined after the first bottle of Vodka. But hey, is it my fault when it tastes so good with orange juice? I don't think so! Uhm, well, Seobryn: He will be in the story again, in chapter7IthinkI'mreallysorrybye. *g* Don't be too angry, okay? And I think Cassia has gone somewhere, on vacation or something? She mentioned something like that, but I can't remember. Japanese, huh? My sister tried it for a couple of months at school and soon gave up - better luck to you!  
Lina - Uhm, I _really_ don't think that given you to those spiders was a good idea... *reads how Lina emerges from the spiders as their Mistress* I knew it! Now it's going to be even worse! As if Zam's orc horse wasn't bad enought! *gives a big sigh* Remind me to buy Éomer something really nice and expensive in the near future - he just saved all of us. Plus he got rid of you for a few days - did I say that out loud? Ooops! Sorry... *smiles sheepishly*  
E - The Hitchhiker's Guide, huh? I simply _loved_ the book! 'Mostly harmless', that's us... *g* But you're right, panicking never helped anyone ... *takes several deep breaths* ... I'm calm now. *winkles head in slight confusion* I don't really know if I understand what you mean and how I can change it, but I'll try. So you like serious chapters? Let me think, this one is rather serious, chapter 6 quite a bit, and chapter 7 is angst pure. Celylith angst, Aragorn angst and Legolas angst. Only the mental one, but still, angst. And in chapter 8 things are starting to get interesting... *evil chuckle*  
Zam - *pouts* What do you mean, 'finally'? That was pretty fast, I think... *blinks* Okay, I won't ask, if you don't want to see the most _awesome_ movie since TTT, then please, be my guest... *evil grin* Now you have an orc horse and demonic frogs? Life's not fair! You want to elope with Celylith? No ma'am! No way! He is a plot device, and I need him! He stays here! *pats Legolas' back and glares at Zam* Look, you've made him cry again! First the tree and now his bow! Do you _hate_ him or what??? *blinks as Gimli and Celylith fight over Zam* Now that's interesting... I'm curious about who'll win... *g* Ah well, Adruran ... let's just say he isn't the nicest of persons, shall we? *thinks* Geran's probably worse though... And if you ask me like that: No, Geran is definitely not Seobryn II. Rather Donyc II if you ask me, not as sadistic, but still... *evil laugh* I already said too much, didn't I? Uhm, gottagobye!  
Elladan - *huggles Elladan* Great to see you again! Thank you very much for your very nice and supportive reviews!  
Xsilicax - *pats her back* Don't worry. They won't be back, I promise - I think... *g* Well, I didn't - really - write the lectures, I thought they'd be too boring. You'll just have to imagine them, I'm afraid... Thanks a lot for your great reviews!  
Alilacia - I absolutely agree with your assessment about spiders: Icky. I HATE them! Well, I really like 'Live'. They make very nice rock music, if you ask me. Right now I'm listening to a particular good song of a German rock band, called 'Die Toten Hosen', which, translated, means as much as 'The Dead Pants', which is a pretty stupid name, I'll admit that. But the song ('Pushed again') is in English and rather nice if you're feeling - well, if you're not in that bright a mood, I'd say. If you put it into Kazaa you might even find it on my computer... LOL, Lasum, huh? Nice, too! *singing* Why can't you just leave me alone.... Sorry, I love that song. Thanks for the review, it was great as always!  
Marbienl - *shakes head* That's pretty stupid, leaving your LOTR copy in England. Well, I carted it over there and back again without even reading it, but I couldn't know that, could I? LOL, Celylith's mother was a spider? That's an interesting idea, really! But quite improbable, I think... *g* *rolls eyes* You _are_ bloodthirsty, did I ever tell you that? I mean, really! Give the boy a break! We both know that he will get into his fair share of trouble later... I agree with you, btw, I fear for Mirkwood's Halls... *evil grin* Good thing they won't stay there for long. *huggles Estel, Legolas and spider plushies* Thanks a lot!! Thank you!!  
Miss Understood - *small voice* Uhm, I'm sorry? Really? Well, you can try to set Bobble on me, but Stan (my balrog, and he's far older than yours) wouldn't look too kindly on that, I'm afraid... Well, I have to agree, Elrond is the perfect dad. I don't get along well with mine either, in fact, I think I haven't spoken to him since I was, what, 12? So, nine years now... C'est la vie. *shrugs* Seobryn and chapter 7 ... yes, quite a bit, I think. Not too much, but he's definitely there, okay?  
Surreal - Aha! A lurker! Gotcha! *chuckles* No, only kidding, I'm very grateful indeed that you decided to de-lurk. You have no idea how much it helps to read what people think about your story! I mean, really it's so bad that you're counting the reviews and think the chapter was bad because there aren't 32 but 28 this time... *g* Thanks a lot for reviewing, and it's great that you like it!  
Nikara - *grins and nods* You have no idea how hard it is to come up with a new injury for any of them! I mean, they've been through the most incredible things already! *nods* You're right. There _never_ is enough time for anything... *sighs* That's life, I guess. Thanks a lot for the review!  
Firniswen - *shrieks too* I hate them too! I have the world most serious case of arachnophobia! And I like to see them slaughtered by our heroes! Don't pull your hair out, the nect chapter's here! Thanks for reviewing!  
CrazyLOTRfan - *shakes head* You're the first one who seriously _complained: about a lack of cliffies. Well, never fear, we have one in chapter 7 and 8, okay? *stares-not-so-patiently back* Here it is! Hope you still like it, even though there's no cliffy either - I think. *g*  
Dragonfly - *nods solemnly* Poor Legolas. I fear he really won't get rid of that name so easily... Glad you liked ot though! Thanks for the review!  
Nilbrethiliel - *grinst* Ich ahbe diesen Titel geliebt. Manchmal habe ich das so (wie bei AEFAE mit "Once more, with feeling"), da kann ich mich den ganzen Tag freuen, dass ich einen so schoenen Kapiteltitel gefunden habe... LOL, Elrohir, der Lila-Pause-Snack? Na, das ist mal was neues! Ach, komm! Das war doch nun wirklich kein cliffy! Was ist es immer mit euch Leuten! Egal, wie gut ich ein Kapitel abschliesse, immer bruellen alle gleich "cliffy"! *g* Nicht fair!! *guckt sehnsuechtig aus dem Fenster* Tja, der Sommer, wem sagst du das! Ich muss morgen in einer Woche ein Referat halten und habe noch nicht -so viel gemacht...   
Salara - *rot werd* Och, so viele nette Sachen - danke! Ich freue mich doch immer, wenn meine Kapitel gefallen... *fieses Grinsen* Na ja, die Menschen... Wir werden noch mehr von ihnen in diesem und im naechsten Kapitel sehen, und spaetestens nach dem naechsten wird ihr Beliebtheitgrad sicher rapide absinken... *unschuldiger Blick* Was, du meinst die Menschen und A/L könnten einander begegnen - darauf bin ich ja noch gar nicht gekommen! Danke fuer die Idee! *g*  
ThE iNsAnE oNe - *nods in satisfaction* Yes, serves them right if your wariderels eat all of them. I have no idea how or why, but they messing with my reviews yet _again_ ... *grrrr* Die, FF.net, DIE!!! *takes squarg and wariderel with dubious look* Uhm, thanks I guess - just what I've always wanted... I'm glad you like Nólad though. If he's happy that makes me happy.... *huggles TiO* Thanks for all your long, funny, funny, funny reviews! Give my regards to Nólad!  
Tapetum Lucidum - *growls threateningly* We hatessss FF.net, yesss we doesss, preciousss... No, I haven't read "Elrond's Most Forgettable Birthday", I'm afraid. I will though as soon as I have a little bit time on my hands - so that would be in two or three months? *g* I absolutely agree with you, Legolas will always look yummy, no matter what he does... I'm afraid you will have to wait a bit until you find out what the evil men want. Just a few more chapters. And I'm not Russian, I'm German! And I think that would be a little problem, since Germans and Russians don't - always - get along so well. Not as bad as Polish people and Russians, but a close second... But I'll think about it, thanks! I'm sure General Hammond and I would get along just fine! *g*  
Aron - *blushes* Thanks so much! It's great you like it! Don't worry, I will keep writing, otherwise the insane plot bunnies would never leave me alone! Thanks a lot for the review!  
Alexa - No need to apologise, it's great that you review at all! I ´know what it feels like with exams creeping ever closer... And yes, the next chapter is - at least partially - the aftermath of their little excursion . Good luck with your exams and thanks a lot for taking the time to review!  
Aurienia - *g* Yes, Wilwarin and her mother are touching, aren't they? Ah, sorry to disappoint you, but I _really_ do not think that it would be a good thing if Thranduil and Elrond found not. No, definitely not. Thanks so much for reviewing! Even though you had to study! Thanks! *huggles her*  
Reginabean - *nods* Yes, FF.net has been acting weird lately, hasn't it? ARGH? That's yll you have to say? Well, I think it says quite a lot, actually... *blinks at Reginabean's little 'outburst'* Uhm, so you liked it? Great, thanks! I hopw you'll enjoy the rest as well!!  
Ciria - Yay me! I've got an icecream! *g* Yeah, that Agent Smith line was great! I loved him, he was perfect! *nods* I would have fainted, too! I absolutely _loathe_ spiders! I dunno if Wilwarin will grow as big as her mother, but I think, in time, she might! Well, yes, I admit that Elladan sounds a bit like an elfling, but he's very worried. And so he should be, spider poison - eek! *huggles Ciria* I'm so glad to 'see' you again! Thanks for the nice long review!  
  
**Okay, that's it, I've got to go now! I _should_ be working on a paper about Hannibal right now, and who am I to let one of the most brilliant generals of the past 2500 years wait? *g* A huge thank you to all my reviewers! Thank you so much!**  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. Laying Foundations

**Disclaimer: **For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.  
  
  
**A/N:  
  
*blinks innocently* Just _why_ do you all think that something bad will happen to out favourite elven prince and ranger? I mean, really! It's just a simple little visit to a nearby allied town, what could possibly go wrong? *evil giggle* Yes, what indeed...  
Well, I'm hurt. Contrary to popular belief, my only aim in life is _not_ to hurt and torture those two! *shrugs* But, dear friends, accidents just happen, don't they... And then there's still my alter ego to consider whom I blame for chapter 8, btw. *points at herself, which makes her look a lot like Gollum* All HER fault! *g*  
  
Oh, and I absolutely agree with you: Aragorn should really talk about his nightmares, but you know him: He's stubborn. Plus, he's a man, and we all know how unreasonable men can be sometimes... *runs off to escape angry male readers* Anyway, he WILL talk about them, later. Believe me, in the near future nightmares will be the least of their worries. *g*  
  
  
Very well, on to chapter 6 then! Just as promised, we will see more of the evil men whose popularity will probably not increase after this, and Legolas finds out about a conspiracy in his father's halls. *g*  
  
  
Enjoy and review, please!  
  
  
  
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Chapter 6  
  
  
Two days later, Legolas was smiling happily as he walked down the hallways of his father's palace. Today had truly been a good day, well, except for the one, small mishap perhaps. But if one counted carefully, then the two good things outweighed the one bad thing, so it had mainly been a good day.  
  
The first good thing was that his father had really allowed them to go to Lake-town, which, even though Legolas had hoped he would, surprised him slightly. He had had a long argument with him, but in the end his father had relented and given his permission, provided that they took Celylith with them and would return in two week's time.   
  
Otherwise, the golden haired king had stated threateningly, he would send a contingent of warriors after them with the orders to drag them back to the palace in a most undignified manner.  
  
Legolas had joyfully agreed of course, in fact, he would even have agreed to a larger escort, but that wasn't something his father needed to know. But it was probably better this way, he reasoned, making his way slowly down the steps leading to the great hall, Seobryn would probably not survive a journey with more than two or three elves.  
  
'Even though,' the prince admitted with a small smile, 'He _has_ improved. Today he didn't run away, looked at me _and_ answered my question.'  
  
The second good thing that had happened was the fact that Celylith was speaking to him again. Two days ago he had tried to talk to him, telling the silver haired elf that his behaviour was more than stupid and unbecoming an elven warrior, but his friend had just looked at him with a cold expression in his blue eyes and left without a word.  
  
Now Celylith seemed to have decided himself that he had made his friend suffer long enough and kindly stooped to talking to him again, something for which Legolas was secretly very thankful for. He had already lost one of his two best childhood friends, namely Glónduil, and he didn't want to lose his second one as well, and because of a spider at that.  
  
Besides, it would make things a lot easier, he thought, stepping out into the courtyard, wondering for a moment when it would begin to snow. The grey clouds hung heavily over the trees, and it smelled so much like snow that he was expecting the first snow flakes any minute now. Or it would at least be as easy as it ever was with his friend, but everything was better than having to travel with a companion that adamantly refused to talk to you.   
  
Legolas stopped shortly, turning to speak to a passing warrior.  
"Have you seen the _dúnadan_, Strider?"  
  
The other elf seemed to think about that for a second before his face lit up.  
"Yes, my lord, I have. He was near the smithies a short while ago."  
  
Legolas thanked the other elf and slowly made his way over to the part of the spacious courtyard where the smithies were located, a bit away from all wooden buildings in case a fire broke out, which truly happened once in a while. But a smithy without a little fire now and then wasn't a real smithy, the prince thought wryly. As elflings he and his friends had quite often prayed for one, because it usually caused general confusion when every able person ran for the smithies to extinguish the flames before they could spread to the palace. That left them unguarded and alone for a while, and it had been more than enough time for them to regularly escape their nursemaids and teachers.  
  
These thoughts automatically brought him to the subject of his human friend, and Legolas was beginning to get slightly worried. While he didn't think that Aragorn would set fire to the palace, he was beginning to wonder what the young ranger wanted down here. He was Elladan's and Elrohir's brother, after all, and it always paid to be wary of his intentions.   
  
'Those little orcs,' Legolas fumed at the thought of the twins. 'When I get my hands on them I will…'  
  
What the two Noldorin elves had left behind was of course the one bad thing that had happened today. He should have known, Legolas decided grumpily, the twins would never have allowed him to get away this easily…   
  
The fair haired elf looked up, realising that he had reached his destination. Looking around for his friend, he finally spotted him where he was just leaving the house of one of the weapon smiths, the deep scratch on his forehead already healed without leaving a mark, thanks to the blood of the Men of Westernesse that flowed in his veins. He watched as Aragorn turned at the door, smiling and bowing lightly to Legandir, who was possibly the best weapon smith in all elvish realms, with the possible exception of the Galadhrim.   
  
Legolas felt his mouth go dry. He didn't know what Aragorn wanted from Legandir, but he was rather sure it couldn't be good. Vowing to himself to be on his guard in the future, he called out a greeting.  
  
Aragorn who had just left the house whirled round and looked at his elven friend with big, somewhat guilty eyes.  
"Legolas! I thought you were with your father!"  
  
Legolas eyed the man suspiciously.  
"I was. We finished our discussion a few minutes ago."  
  
"Oh. Perfect," Aragorn muttered, shooting the smithy he had just left a furtive glance. Had Legolas seen him with Legandir?  
  
"What are you doing here? And don't you want to know what my father had to say?" the elven prince asked the other, not really expecting an honest answer, which Aragorn was by no means willing to give.  
  
"Oh, nothing really," the ranger said, steering his friend back into the direction of the palace. "Just … walking. Nothing more." Ignoring the dubious look the blonde elf shot him, he added, "And of course I want to know. What did he say?"  
  
Legolas gave his friend a long stare. Very well, he thought, when Aragorn wasn't prepared to answer him, he would have to find out otherwise, somehow. He _was_ the crown prince after all, and Legandir _had_ to answer his questions.  
  
He looked at the young man solemnly.  
"I am sorry, Strider," he said, watching with wicked glee how Aragorn's eager face fell. "I am sorry, but … we have to take Celylith with us."  
  
It took the young man a moment to realise what his friend had just said.  
"You mean we can go?"  
  
"Yes, Estel, we may," Legolas answered, smiling at the other.  
  
"When would we have to leave?" Aragorn asked, looking suddenly worried.   
  
Legolas frowned, growing more confused by the second. Why was Aragorn worried about their time of departure? Usually the ranger couldn't get started on a journey soon enough.  
  
'There is something definitely odd going on here,' the prince decided, a feeling of dread beginning to sneak up on him.  
  
"In two or three days," he answered, surveying his friend closely.  
  
At that Aragorn gave a relieved smile.  
"Oh. That's perfect then."  
  
"Why?" the fair haired elf asked boldly, narrowing his eyes at his friend.  
  
"Hm? Oh, no special reason."  
  
"Aragorn…" Legolas growled threateningly.  
  
"What?" the human asked, turning innocent grey eyes on the young elf. "What is it? Did you find another of my brothers' … gifts?"  
  
The elven prince's eyes flashed dangerously.  
"As a matter of fact, I did. But that's not what I meant, and you know it. You are avoiding my questions, once again."  
  
The dark haired ranger lowered his eyes to the ground, somewhat ashamed. Yes, he had been avoiding all questions Legolas had addressed at him concerning his nightmares, and as sorry as he was for worrying his friend, he just couldn't talk about them. Especially not with Legolas. It was silly enough that he was having these dreams at all, and the last thing he wanted was to burden his elven friend with them.  
  
"I don't want to talk about that yet again, Legolas," he said flatly.  
  
Legolas shook his head. That stubborn human! Well, he would give him a few more days and then he would force him to tell him! Or even sooner if he kept sleeping as little as he did.  
  
"Fine, human," he snapped, growing angry against his will. "Then don't talk to me! You are just as bad as those demon-brothers of yours!"  
  
He turned and was about to disappear into the royal gardens, when a hand closed around his arm and held him back.  
  
"What did they do?" Aragorn asked softly, looking at him with imploring eyes.  
  
Accepting this as the peace offer it was, the elven prince turned back to his friend.  
"They glued my spare knives to their sheaths."  
  
"They did _what_?" the young human exclaimed, everything else forgotten.  
  
"You heard me," Legolas growled, but his eyes twinkled playfully.   
  
"Elbereth," Aragorn whispered. "Well, I don't even know why I am surprised. The other things were far too obvious after all."  
  
Legolas had to agree. The other booby traps had been far too easy to find, even though he had to give the twins some credit for the water snakes in his bathing pool. He didn't even want to know where they had got the animals from, or how they had got them into his room.  
  
"They will wish they'd never been born the next time I see them," Legolas hissed, silver-blue eyes darkening.  
  
Aragorn winced and asked himself if his brothers had truly known what they had been doing when they had touched the elven prince's weapons. Everybody knew that Legolas could react rather … strangely when the matter concerned his bow or knives, and anyone who laid hands on them or made derogatory comments about them was in the danger of dying an unexpected, violent death.  
  
'Ah well,' he thought. 'They are over 2800 years old. It's their problem, not mine.'  
  
"Uhm, perhaps they didn't mean to?" he asked in a half-hearted attempt to defend the twins.  
  
Legolas only raised an eyebrow and gave him a cold stare.  
  
"Forget I said anything," Aragorn shrugged.   
  
Together they began to climb the steps leading up to the main building.  
  
"Is your father holding court right now?" Aragorn asked, keeping his eyes straight ahead.  
  
"No, I don't think so," Legolas replied, taken aback, instantly suspicious. "Why?"  
  
"Oh, I just need to talk with him about something. Do you think he would receive me now?"  
  
The prince just stared at his friend. Aragorn wanted to talk with his father? This was highly unusual, for, even if he wasn't exactly afraid of Thranduil, the ranger harboured more than a little bit of respect for him and had never before sought out the King of Mirkwood to "talk with him about something".   
  
This just couldn't be good.  
  
"Legolas?" the human's voice drew him back to the present.  
  
"Yes. Yes, I think so. Just ask Galion for a short audience," he said slowly, his eyes surveying his friend.  
  
"Excellent!" Aragorn exclaimed and clapped the fair haired elf on the back. "You can go and inform Celylith, I will do the same with Seobryn later. I will see you later,_ mellonamin_!"  
  
The young ranger gave his elven friend a last smile before he turned and walked away into the direction of King Thranduil's study, cheerfully greeting warriors and elf lords as he passed them.  
  
Legolas just remained where he was, watching his departing friend's back. This was one strange thing too many that had happened to him today, he decided, blinking slowly. There was something odd going on here, and it seemed that his father was part of it.  
  
"Ilúvatar, what is Arda coming to?" he asked himself loudly as he went off to search for his silver haired friend and inform him of their journey, causing one of his father's councillors to glance at him curiously.  
  
How true, the older elf thought as he watched his prince disappear round a bend in the corridor, muttering to himself, what was everything coming to? First Lord Elrond and his snorting, and now Prince Legolas.  
  
The world was changing, indeed.  
  
  
  
  
Adruran was the surveying the empty room in case he had forgotten something. While he didn't think that whatever he could leave behind could somehow be linked to him, he didn't want to risk anything. He hadn't reached the ripe age of 41 years by carelessness or unorganised behaviour.  
  
He chuckled inwardly. Indeed, to have reached an age of 41 summers was something rather unique in his field of work, especially when one considered whom he worked for. His lord wasn't known to be very lenient towards those who disappointed him, and neither was he a patient or controlled man. It was a dangerous business working for him, but then again, refusing his offers and not working for him was even more dangerous and, more often than not, deadly.  
  
So, the only thing a sensible man could do was not to fail him and be in his presence as little as possible, and up until now, he had succeeded, and in the process had become quite rich. His liege may have a temper, but he did indeed pay those who carried out his orders successfully most handsomely.  
  
'Of course he does,' Adruran thought, closing the door and heading down to the main room of the tavern to pay for the rooms he and his men had occupied. 'Of course he pays us well. No-one has ever kept a realm together for long only by sheer terror, and he knows that. You have to give people a good reason for working for you, after all. Except the obvious of course, such as beheading if they don't.'  
  
The noise that washed over him when he entered the tavern was almost deafening after the quiet stillness of his room, and he stopped at the door to reorient himself for a second. The spacious room was already three-quarters full, and more and more people were yet streaming into the inn. All seemed to be in high spirits, drinking and laughing merrily, tankards raised high into the air as the men and women toasted someone.   
  
Adruran strained to understand the name, and over the drunken laughter and merry words he finally managed to discern a name: Bard. More precisely, Bard the Bowman, but it could have been Maude the Mophead or Wat the Woman as well, so slurred did most of the voices sound already.  
  
He had to stifle a grin. As interesting as those last two possibilities sounded, he was rather sure that the Lake-men had no reason to toast a person with such strange a name, besides, if he remembered it correctly, Bard had been the one who had shot Smaug the Dragon when he had been attacking Esgaroth twelve years ago.   
  
And he had done a great job, he thought sarcastically, shot the thing so that it crashed into the town and completely destroyed it. Well done indeed.  
  
"To Bard!" a drunken voice sounded.  
  
"Bard! Bard! King of Dale!" others joined in. "May he live another 45 years!"  
  
Other voices congratulated the king on his 43rd or 48th birthday, so there seemed to be some confusion over the actual age.  
  
Adruran shook his head as he paid the rent that had accumulated over the past eight days. The whole town seemed to be celebrating the birthday of their saviour, but then again, that would only aid his plans. When the guards were as drunk as the majority of the people here, then slipping out of Esgaroth would prove to be a lot easier than he had originally feared.  
  
With a last look at the merry folk in the tavern he stepped out of the building onto the wooden catwalk that ran around the house. He looked at the night sky when a small, cold drop of frozen water touched his cheek. The tall man sighed softly. Of course it had to snow now, he thought wryly, was there a better time than the evening of their departure?  
  
He nodded at the shadows near the door.  
"Tiddryr."  
  
A second later his red haired lieutenant appeared, stepping out of the darkness and into the cone of light the open door produced, shaking his head.  
"One of these days you have to tell me how you do that, sir."  
  
His captain smiled mirthlessly.  
"Oh, I learned it from a ranger, a few years back," he said, suppressing the sudden annoyance he felt. He really wasn't in the mood for talking with his subordinates about trivial things.  
  
The younger man raised a copper eyebrow and asked, following his captain into the direction of the town's outskirts,  
  
"How did you come to meet him?"  
  
"It was during a mission when I was a bit younger," Adruran explained, reining his temper. "We got along quite well, I think. That was before I had to slit his throat, of course." He turned to give his companion a thin smile. "He asked too many questions."  
  
Tiddryr swallowed once, averting his eyes. Satisfied that the other had understood his message, Adruran took up his purposeful walk once more.  
  
A short while later they had had crossed several wooden bridges, a few stone bridges (an innovation the new Master of the Town had introduced for the unlikely case that another dragon might want to attack and set fire to the whole settlement, or maybe just to prevent the spreading of ordinary fires) and quite a lot of unmanned gates, and finally they reached the part of the town near the big quays, the reloading-point of the goods that came up from the south via the River Running.  
  
The otherwise so busy embankments were empty and deserted since all the workers were busy celebrating in one of the town's many inns. That made this place even more perfect than it had been a few days ago when he had chosen it as a hiding place, Adruran thought, silently nearing a large, obviously abandoned warehouse. The windows were barricaded with large, wooden boards, parts of the roof were missing and the doors were tightly closed and locked with crude metal locks.  
  
'Or so it appears', the dark haired man thought wryly, 'But as so often in this world, appearances can be deceiving…'  
  
When they had reached the door, it swung inwards at once, the wood creaking slightly as it did so. Adruran nodded in satisfaction; so the guards on the roof had done their job well and informed the others of his arrival.  
  
He entered the warehouse, nodding slightly at the two guards that stood on either side of the entrance, their swords drawn in case any uninvited visitors decided to show up. He walked a little bit further into the room and stopped at a group of five of his men, who were talking quietly amongst themselves.  
  
"Geran. Report," he demanded curtly, nodding at the youngest of the men who was still in command of the small troupe. In Adruran's opinion age shouldn't be the decisive factor in questions such as a command, and until now the youth hadn't disappointed him, even though he had the feeling that some of the young man's 'hobbies' might cause trouble rather sooner than later.  
  
The young man turned to his commander and straightened his shoulders.  
"We are ready to leave, sir. The horses are behind the warehouse, we have enough provisions for a month and all the men are here. The rents have been paid, there have been no fights or brawls, and no-one seemed to have taken any inappropriate interest in us. We can be gone in a quarter of an hour."  
  
Adruran smiled slightly.  
"Well done, Geran." He turned to the rest of his men. "Get ready to leave. Bleon, you will lead the first group, Tiddryr, you the second. The other two will be commanded by Geran and myself. We will leave in fifteen minutes."  
  
The assembled men nodded and began to move to the back of the warehouse to slip through several openings into the vast yard that was located right behind the building.  
  
Adruran remained behind, looking intently at Geran.  
"Has our … guest thought of anything else that might be of use to us?" he asked, beginning to make his way over to one of the dark corners of the building, nearing the spot where two of his men leaned against the wall, looking quite bored.  
  
Geran smiled, a smile that was as cold and emotionless as his dark eyes.  
"Oh, he wasn't very talkative anymore. But he … remembered a few hours ago that his friends hadn't left five days ago but only two. He understands now how wrong it was to forget such an important detail."  
  
Adruran shot him a brief look, deciding to keep a close eye on him. Geran obviously enjoyed all this far too much.  
"Only two days…" he muttered, his mind spinning with the new information. "That is most fortunate, we might even be able to catch up with them before they reach..."  
  
He fell silent for a while, contemplating what to do next.   
"Something else?" he asked, turning back to his young lieutenant.  
  
Geran seemed to think about this for a second before he spoke up.  
"Yes, there was something, even though I don't know whether or not it is important. A few of the men have reported that there were some people looking for our friend here."  
  
Adruran followed his subordinate's gaze and looked down at the floor between the two guards, fixing emotionless eyes on the still figure of a man that lay on the dirty ground. At least, he thought detachedly, it had been a man once, now there wasn't enough left of him for his own mother to recognise.  
  
'As I said,' he thought wryly, 'It is all a matter of the proper encouragement.'  
  
Although, it did appeared to him that Geran and his men had overdone it a little bit here, judging by the blood that seemed to be everywhere.  
  
"Really?" he asked, turning mildly interested eyes on the youth. "Now that is interesting. Friends of his?"  
  
"No," Geran shook his head, an amused sparkle in his brown eyes, "He claims he doesn't know them. And I think he speaks the truth; we were … very convincing."  
  
Adruran just gave him a blank stare. He really didn't like this sort of bragging, it was unprofessional and more than a little bit annoying.  
  
"Are you quite finished?" he asked, a dangerous undertone in his voice.  
  
Geran swallowed nervously and nodded, forcing himself to continue.  
"Yes, sir. Our … guest said they were probably men in the service of some of those who left with his friends. He doesn't know their names or even who they work for, only that whoever the employer is, he is also very interesting in getting what we want."  
  
The brown haired man frowned in thought as he slowly walked back the way they had come. This got more complicated by the second, he thought irritated, running a hand over his face. He should have known better than to accept this assignment, but on second thought, he _had_ known better. He just hadn't had a real choice in the matter…  
  
Now there were not only two, but three parties involved, not counting his own men?  
  
'Eru,' he sighed inwardly, 'Just for once it would be very enjoyable indeed if everything went according to plan!'  
  
"Very well," he said as he had reached the door leading to the yard, squaring his shoulders and turning to face his lieutenant who had followed him in silence. "You two," he nodded into the direction of the guards, "will stay here and keep an eye on things, just in case anyone else shows an interest in us or our friend here. Should anything happen, one of you will follow us immediately while the other stays behind and tries to learn as much as possible. Do not take any unnecessary risks and, in Eru's name, do not go looking for trouble. Understood?"  
  
The two nodded.  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Satisfied that this was taken care of, he shot Geran an unreadable look before he took the last steps into the direction of the door, his gaze shortly brushing the unmoving figure in the corner.  
"Dispose of him."  
  
Geran grinned slightly, deciding that a quick death was probably a mercy. One way or the other, the man wouldn't live to see another dawn. A question forming in his mind, he followed his captain for some steps and asked,  
  
"How, sir? We don't have much time."   
  
Adruran stopped and slowly turned around, an unbelieving expression on his face.  
"Great Ones, how? Use your head, boy! We are on the middle of the Long Lake!"  
  
He watched with some satisfaction how the younger man blushed and nodded, snapping at the two other men to get him some weights as he turned to walk back to his half-dead prisoner.  
  
He stepped out of the warehouse, breathing in the cold air and idly watching the gently falling snow.   
The waiting was finally over, he thought relieved as he made his way over to his horse. Now all they needed to do was find the other party and … persuade them to tell them where it was located, find it and get some of it back to his lord.  
  
That would be enough to satisfy his liege, Adruran thought, and that was all he wanted. And if possible, satisfy him before winter began in earnest and made this whole episode even more unpleasant than it already was.  
  
  
  
  
Legolas lay in bed, one half of him too lazy and one half too terrified to get up.  
  
The lazy half was owned to the fact that the last evening had been spent with songs and dance and drink in the great hall in the process of a goodbye-feast, something which he thought highly unnecessary. After all, they were going to be gone for two weeks at the most, not on a two year-patrol.   
But then again, the Silvan folk of Eryn Lasgalen didn't always need a real reason for singing and being merry, and so the night had been spent with drink and laughter.  
  
The prince had to smile. Aragorn and he had spent most of the time making up ambiguous songs about spiders and butterflies and had almost suffocated with laughter when Celylith had shot them mock glares. It had been quite funny indeed, until his father had suspiciously inquired where their newfound love for arachnids originated from.  
  
Yes, Legolas thought, it had been an enjoyable albeit late evening, and he was looking forward to many more of such evenings during the cold days of the winter season.  
  
The terrified part was due to the fact that he, Estel, Seobryn and Celylith would be leaving for Esgaroth today. He was quite eager to get out of the palace, of course, and yesterday had been beautiful with a clear blue sky and lots of snow that promised making travelling with humans even more enjoyable, from an elf's point of view, of course, but here he had to agree with his father: Something had to happen.  
  
He didn't yet know what would happen, when it would happen or even to whom it would happen, but happen it would, the son of Thranduil thought darkly. "It" would result in him dragging Estel back to the palace to face his father's wrath, or maybe the other time round for a change. The only thing he was sure about was the facing-his-father's-wrath-bit, something he seemed to be unable to avoid.  
  
'Get up, coward,' a familiar sarcastic voice muttered inside his head, 'What will come to pass, will come to pass, whether you hide in your chambers or not.'  
  
Grumbling the fair haired elf got up, washed and dressed, pondering how it was possible that that voice sounded like a mix between Aragorn and the Lady Galadriel now.   
'Besides,' he thought ill-temperedly, 'I beg to differ. Hiding here would solve quite a lot of my problems.'  
  
He finished dressing and walked over into the next room where he had piled up the things he wanted to take with him, mainly weapons, spare clothes and enough healing herbs and bandages to open a small apothecary. An apothecary that wouldn't need to replenish its stocks for quite some years to come.  
  
Scanning the small mountain of packs and satchels, Legolas noticed two things: First, that he should probably pack a few more bandages, one could never have enough of them, and second, that his quiver was missing.  
  
A low growl of annoyance was beginning to build in his chest. He should have known it, he thought irritated, he should have known that accursed human was up to something. The past two days had been highly unusual, to say the least.   
  
When he had tried to get Legandir, the smith, to tell him what Aragorn had wanted from him, the dark haired elf had only looked at him with barely hidden amusement and told him how very sorry he was, but that he couldn't answer his questions by order of the king and that he should take it up with him.   
His father wouldn't give him a straight answer either, only telling him that everything would be "revealed in due time" and using the opportunity to lecture him on the virtues of patience.  
  
He didn't even try to get Aragorn to tell him, for he knew that all attempts would be useless. Apart from the incredible stubbornness the young ranger seemed to have adopted another of his elven brothers' traits, namely to avoid questions with extraordinary skill, something that would probably serve him well in the future, especially if he ever became King of Gondor and Arnor. Right now however it was decidedly annoying.  
  
Fine, Legolas decided, it was time to end this charade. If his father and Aragorn had wanted to play a little game with him, then that was alright, but enough was enough. No-one touched his weapons, even if the quiver had only held one of his older bows he had chosen as a replacement for the one he had lost some weeks ago. No-one.  
  
Silver-blue eyes flashing with suppressed anger, he flung his door open and made his way over to his friend's. He thought about knocking, but quickly abandoned that idea. Had Aragorn knocked when he had taken his weapons?  
  
He opened the door with a little bit more force than necessary, causing it to bounce against the wall, but to his surprise and annoyance, the young ranger wasn't in his rooms.  
Legolas scowled at the empty room and stormed out, shooting a passing servant girl a grim look. No, he thought, this time his friend wouldn't get away so easily. He would find him and teach him what happened if one touched a wood-elf's weapons.  
  
Half an hour later though, he was beginning to get rather annoyed. It was almost as if the young human had vanished into thin air, and none of those Legolas had questioned had seen him or knew where he could be. If he hadn't been in such a foul mood, he might even have given the ranger some credit for this, since it was no small feat indeed to avoid detection by Silvan elves, but right now he was quite preoccupied with imagining all the things he would do to the man once he found him, starting with using him for target practise.  
  
Feeling very annoyed and rather frustrated now, the elven prince turned with a growl and headed back to the main building. Just as he was entering the great hall, he heard a voice behind him that made him whirl around.  
  
"Legolas! Good morning, my friend, are you ready to leave?"  
  
Legolas narrowed his eyes and stared at the innocent face of his human friend.  
"Where. Is. It." he managed to grind out between gritted teeth.  
  
Aragorn gulped once, obviously plucking up his courage.  
"Where is what, my friend? Didn't you sleep well?"  
  
The blonde elf merely stepped closer, smiling sweetly and grabbing the man's arm while he pushed him out of the hall.  
"My quiver, human, as you well know. Don't make me hurt you, and don't think I wouldn't. I remember the sparring match from yesterday, you are quite well again."  
  
The young ranger tried to escape his friend's firm grip, without much success however.  
  
"Well, I don't have it," he said, turning huge silver eyes on the irate elf that was steering him into the direction of his room.  
  
"That was not what I asked, Strider," Legolas said in a low voice, still smiling eerily at him. Aragorn suppressed a shudder. That smile made the elf look positively dangerous. "I was asking where it…"  
  
They had reached his room now, and the elven prince stopped in mid-sentence, staring dumbstruck at the pile of bags that still sat on the floor of his chambers. And at the quiver, complete with bow, that sat in front of it.  
  
Aragorn hid a grin and did his best to look indignant and aggrieved.  
"Well, there it is! Honestly, you drag me through half of the palace to show me that your quiver is exactly where you left it yesterday evening?"  
  
Legolas just kept staring at his quiver, slowly letting go of the human's arm. This wasn't possible! He was sure it hadn't been here when he had awoken…  
  
He took one step closer to his weapons, and couldn't quite hide a gasp of surprise when he eyed them more closely. This wasn't his old bow he had had for a few decades now, it was a new one, the string still coiled around the dark wood.  
  
And it was beautiful, in fact, possibly the most beautiful bow he had ever seen, apart from the twins' longbows that were a gift from their grandparents, the Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim. And since the elves of Lothlórien weren't exactly known for giving away their weapons, he saw little chance of ever possessing such a beautiful bow himself.  
  
But this one was perfect. It was made of dark wood, inlaid with wreathing strands of gold at the ends and in the middle, a strong, beautifully crafted piece of work that did his people's craftsmanship justice.  
  
Legolas slowly took a step closer, half-afraid that it might vanish if he moved too quickly. He reached out and closed his fingers around the bow, taking it out of the quiver and running his hands over the wood, feeling for imperfections and – of course – finding none. It was perfectly balanced as well, and it fit in his hand as if it had been made for him.  
  
He turned back to his friend, the weapon still in hand.  
"How … what …?"  
  
Aragorn grinned, silver eyes gleaming. It was a rare occurrence indeed to see the always so collected Prince of Mirkwood confused and at a loss for words, and the sight greatly amused him.  
"How was I to know that you would get up so early? The plan was to get it back here before you had risen, but I was a little too slow, I guess."  
  
Legolas tore his eyes away from the new bow, staring hard at the human.  
"Where did you get it? Why did you get it?"  
  
The young ranger sat down on a wooden chair in front of the fireplace, shrugging lightly.  
"Legandir was so kind to make it for you. And you needed a bow, that's why."  
  
"But, Aragorn," Legolas began, still more than a little taken off guard, "Legandir never takes orders just like that. He needs at least two months for something like this."  
  
Aragorn grinned, eyes dancing with amusement.  
"Oh, Elladan ordered it for me six weeks ago. He can be quite convincing, believe me. And I spoke with your father about it to make sure we wouldn't give you the same present. We agreed to share this gift, so to speak. His request might have helped some, as well."  
  
The fair haired elf shook his head.  
"Not even _ada_ can order Legandir to do something he doesn't want to do. He is the best weapon smith north of Lórien, and he knows that perfectly well. What did you promise him in return for," he returned his eyes to his new bow and continued in an awed whisper, "for this masterpiece?"  
  
The young human shrugged nonchalantly.  
"Oh, not much. I think the agreement was my immortal soul and my first born should I ever sire children. Nothing of great importance, really." He chuckled at his friend's indignant look. "It is a gift, my friend. You lost your bow because of me and the least I can do is make sure you receive a new one. Your father and I didn't want to see you without a weapon worthy of your skill. Just accept it."  
  
Legolas looked at the human, shaking his head slightly.  
"You are impossible, Strider. This bow is worth more than a small human village."  
  
"And so it should be," Aragorn replied softly, smiling at the elf. "Besides, I didn't act out of selflessness. I need someone to cover my back when you get us into trouble once more."  
  
"I?" Legolas asked incredulously, carefully putting the weapon back into the quiver. "I, human? It is you who stirs up the trouble, not me." He quickly walked over to his friend's chair and pulled the human to his feet. "Thank you," he said, grasping Aragorn's forearms tightly and looking at him earnestly, his silver-blue eyes shining brightly. "It is beautiful. Thank you, _mellonamin._"  
  
Aragorn simply nodded, squeezing his elven friend's arms lightly.  
"You should go and thank your father. Without his assistance I don't think I would have been able to convince Master Legandir of the importance of this particular assignment."  
  
Legolas smiled and released the human's forearms.  
"He can be quite … eccentric sometimes."  
  
Aragorn snorted as they made their way down the corridor into the direction of King Thranduil's chambers.  
"'Eccentric' is quite a mild term, I think. It took me ages to convince him that I couldn't wait a _yén_ or two."  
  
Legolas grinned at the young ranger, eyes twinkling.  
"Oh, I think you could have waited a _yén_. Two might have been tricky though, even for a Númenórean."  
  
"Not all of us can wait a few centuries for a new weapon, elf," Aragorn retorted laughing. "Besides, you needed it today. The chances that you won't need it on this journey are…"  
  
"Slim to none, my friend. I know," the elven prince retorted, turning serious again.  
  
The chances were slim indeed, he thought as they neared his father's rooms to say their thanks and good-byes. The day Aragorn and he returned from any expedition unscathed, in one piece and overall uninjured would be the day orcs saw the errors of their ways, adopted acceptable manners and were able to converse in civilised voices.  
  
In other words, that day lay probably a long while in the future. But that fact wouldn't deter him from trying. One never knew what the future held, and this time might be the time it finally happened.  
  
Besides, what could possibly happen on their way to Esgaroth or in the town itself, he asked himself as they stopped in front of his father's door.  
They would be just fine, and perhaps they would even return without a scratch.  
  
Perhaps.  
  
  
  
  
  
**TBC...  
  
  
  
  
  
** _dúnadan - 'Man of the West', ranger  
mellonamin - my friend  
ada - father (daddy)  
yén - elvish unit of time, eqivalent to 144 years  
  
  
  
  
_***stares at screen in disgust* What am I doing? No cliffy since chapter 3?! I've got to see a doctor, I'm ill or something... *g* Be that as it may, Legolas now has a new bow! Yay! So, now they're on their way to Lake-town, where they will arrive next chapter. *shivers with excitement* Oh, what will happen? Will they even manage to cross the bridges before trouble finds them? *evil cackle*  
Well, answers to that and more in the next post, probably on Friday. Reviews are greatly appreciated. Please? I'm begging here! *g***  
  
  
  


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**Additional A/N:  
  
**Coreinha - Just one question: Why are you threatening me with a squirrel? I mean, they are not exactly ... fearsome, are they? And I don't think I would hurry anyway, because I really don't have much time right now. Besides, I really _do_ enjoy making you guys wait for the chappies... *evil grin* And can't you just shift the chatgroup to the Microsoft Messenger or something? I really hate AOL! *grumbles* I'll think about it, okay?  
Gwyn - *g* Ah well, it's not really a 'conspiracy'-conspiracy, if you know what I mean... You probably don't, that because I'm not making any sense at all... *shrugs* Ah well, that's me, I guess... Thanks for reviewing!  
TrinityTheSheDevil - A *cough* naked Aragorn? *turns red* Uhm, I don't know ... what about ... no? I'm not a Slash writer, for cryin' out loud! I would DIE before I even got past the sentence "And Aragorn was naked...". *giggles* No way. *splutters some more* Whatever. *evil grin* So you like Aragorn angst? *rubs hands* Good for you, m'dear, because, you know, there is chapter 7 and 8 and 9 and there they... *closes mouth* I'm not telling! And don't think your spider could eat me! Stan never sleeps, plus there's Fred sr. (my warg) and a few nazgûl that live in my bathroom. Okay? *g*  
E - *nods sadly* I know. Were are very sick and should seek professional help. *g* A certain nasty elf and a sick human that come to visit Aragorn's dreams? Well, that just _might_ be correct. *g* No, you're right, they never learn, but then again, if they did our lives would be soooo boring, wouldn't they? *huggles E* Thanks! I really need all the luck I can possibly get. Last Friday I was there when the prof - figuratively speaking, of course - ripped the last paper and the poor person who had written it to pieces. Tiny pieces, so tiny that you couldn't find them with a magnifying glass. *shudders* It wasn't a pretty sight, believe me...  
Aralondwen - Hoi! Aralondwen! Nice to see you again - is that a flame thrower you're holding? *shakes head* Why am I even asking? *narrows eyes* And you _should_ be sorry for not reviewing sooner! I mean, hey, I spend FAR too much time in front of the screen to give you a little chapter once in a while and you... J/k, don't worry! Thanks for updating now! *hugs her and grabs a marshmallow* Thanks - mmm, yummy...  
Firniswen - Well well well, you can't have everything, can you? *evil grin* Patinece, patience you need to learn, young one... *sounding eerily like Yoda* Ah well. The next part's here, thanks for the review!  
XsilicaX - *shakes her hand* Welcome to the club of the arachnophobic FF writers. I positively loathe them! Yeah well, let's say Legolas would very much lik to help his friend, if only Aragorn would let him... *shakes head in exasperation* Stubborn, reckless human, that one... Hey, you are a great reviewer! You always make me laugh! *pokes her back* Well, preciousss, than you'll have to wait, wesss thinksss... Wess really hatessss AOL, yes we doesss, preciousss.... Had many traumatic experiencesss with it, we had, Gollum Gollum... But as I told Coreinha, if you want to, tell me your screennames and when you'll probably be online and I'll think about it. After I've finished my paper, I think. Okay?  
Mouse - *grins* So you think you know what's going to happen? Please, tell me! I want to see if I've become predictable in my old age... This chapter nothing much happens, but you can still tell me? Please? *puppy dog eyes* Well, anyway. Did I ever tell you how very grateful I am for your continued support? Well, in case I haven't... THANKS!! *huggles Mouse*  
Elladan - Well, if that review was random, then I like random reviews! Thanks so much for all your kind words! Great you like it!  
Halo - 'Bloody long'? What took me so 'bloody long'? Well, I'll be ... that coming from YOU! You who doesn't update more often than once a century!! But don't worry, _I_ *shoots her meaningful glances* wouldn't kill our babies, I'm too afraid for that. Somebody would probably find me and kill me in a slow and painful way... *shudders* No, Happy Endings are a lot nicer! *buries head in hands* So it WAS slang, wasn't it? Shame on me!! I mean, I make a point of not using 'okay' and things like that, and what do I do? I use slang terms! Arghh! *shuffles off dejectedly* But thanks for telling me...  
Jenny - *whistles innocently* I don't know either! I mean, would I hurt my babies? Never!! And you are right: I think lecturers' only aim in life id to make our lives miserable. And they're quite good at it, aren't they? *shrugs* Well, okay. Thanks for reviewing!  
Ciria - Wohoo, then you're psychic! I mean, if you have a feeling that I updated and I did - hmm, on second thought, might also be because I usually updtae every four days... *g* Oh, my fav ice cream? That's a tough question... I think chocolate with chocolate cookies. That's so good! Oh, and no, my name is not Clodia. That was the name of a Roman noblewoman who was a ... let's say, a very interesting woman. She is said to have killed her husand and a few other people, was involved in every major conspiracy of that time and sister to the most powerful _tribunus_ who wanted to take over the City of Rome and killed all and everyone who stood in his way. *shrugs* Interesting woman, okay? Hmm, I don't think twins could ever confuse each other with a mirror. I've always read that twins don't think they look alike at all, they see tiny differences a normal persons wouldn't even notice. LOL! I love the brush thing! 'Behold, the brush of Isildur!' *giggles* Ah, and I put 'Elros' there because the term _is_ 'the Line of Elros'. I mean, Isildur was only part of that line. Don't worry, I would never let you hang _too_ long! *g*  
Kaera - *vertraeumt* Ach ja... Das ist die ultimative Vorstellung aller Personen, die einen Computer besitzen bzw. es mal getan haben - ihn einfach nehmen und aus dem Fenster schmeissen! Hach... LOL, 'Dibbel'? Was is'n das fuer 'n Ausdruck? *schuettelt Kopf* Ihr seid einer schlimmer als der andere. Immer wollt ihr nur Leute leiden sehen... Okay, ich geb's ja zu, ich bin auch nicht anders... Ja, ich merk das schon, du bist echt fixiert auf die Geschichte, was? Mal gucken, was ich da mahcne kann... *taetschelt Kaeeras Schulter* Tust mir echt leid mit deiner verlorenen Muse, ich habe das noch nie gehabt ... aber ich habe auch immer ein 'Geruest' und weiss so ungefaehr, was ich schreiben will... Na ja. Moege sie bald zurueckkommen!  
Marbienl - *nods* I really think twins have that kind of connection. I've read abou it, and my biology teacher said it was so. *nods again* Oh, I'm glad you liked that part with the dwarves - I never planned it! It just came to me! *pulls Marbienl back* Will you stop hitting poor Legolas! He was in mortal danger! Really, and Aragorn will be fine - in the end, that is... *g* Oh, and I think Thranduil laughed because he thought it was a joke. I mean, they can't be seriously considering leaving the palace again! Well, about Cellyith's mother: He would have more than 2 legs if he were part spider, wouldn't he? Plus, we learn more about his family in ch. 7 - sorry, no spider mom. Uhm, okay, I'll promise, but only if you promise to review within 4 days! *winks* Thanks for the great long review!  
Zam - As I said, poor you. Computers can be quite frustrating somtimes... Ask your orc horde for a cookies - they make very good ones! Thanks for reviewing nonetheless! *huggles her*  
Lina - ROTFL, 'scuttle like the wind'? I like that! Well, yes, Éomer and the Rohirrim get a present! *pulls out a union certificate* Here you go! Rohirrim: What? *confused* I mean, hey! You work for Lina non-stop! Does she pay you alright? What about holidays? Overtime money and all that? Huh? You need a labour union! Éomer: Rohirrim!! She is right! ROHIRRIM!! *ride off to their first union meeting* So, now that's settled...uhm, Lina, why are you looking at me like that? Lina ... come on ... it's not that bad, they still love you ... LINA!! Help! LOL, 'BNOGO'?? That _does_ sound desperate! *sighs* Could you please stop hurting my villains? I need them for the story - no, you can't just kill them 'a little', it doesn't work that way... *giggles* Great review! Thanks!  
Nilbrethiliel - Och, ich habe eigentlich gar nichts gegen die armen kleinen Elflinge... Und Legolas ist auch gar nicht mein Hauptziel! Ich meine, hey, es macht doch viel mehr Spass den armen unschuldigen kleinen Ranger zu quaelen, oder? Mir auf jeden Fall... *evil grin* Ach, wer liebt denn Elben nicht? Sogar Celeborn ist cool, und DER ist doch nun wirklich schwul, oder? UNd Recht hast du, Hannibal ist in der Tat vor mehr als 20 Jahren von uns gegeangen, das ist so eher ... hm, 2170 oder so? Ich wuerde gar nicht mal sagen, dass du verrueckt bist, eher ... anders? *g* Sind wir doch alle...  
Fliewatuet - *Nili does happy little dance* You reviewed! Thanks! I always LOVE 'seeing' people I 'know'... *g* Hmm, Seobryn, let me think... His next appearance is next chapter, I think, and he will be in the rest of the story as well. Not _that_ much, but he'll be there. Well, about the internet access: I have no idea! Really, I've moved about 10 times in my life, and NEVER before have they provided me/my family with telephone or internet access on time. Usually they start telling you that you don't exist. 'What, connection 12345? No, sorry, there is no such telephone number. You do not exist. Please stop bothering us or we'll sick the dogs and lawyers on you. Have a nice day.' *shrugs* It was a miracle, pure and simple... *g*  
Jambaby1963 - Well, I don't like it when chapters are so long! It _want_ to write chapters of about 12 pages, and never manage to. That's very frustrating! I mean, really, chapter 8 is 16 or 17 pages long! *grrr* I just have no control whatsoever over the plot, that's the problem. Glad you lke it though. Thanks for reviewing!  
Nikara - Aragorn will fall off his horse? Well, to be perfectly honest, I never even considered that, but now ... it's a good idea! Thanks! *g* And thanks for wishing me luck, I'll definitely ned it!   
Tapetum Lucidum - Guten Tag to you too, or rather Guten Abend, since it's evening now... Oh yes, I'm quite sure that Legolas' life will be in danger should he visit Imladris in the near future, but then again, so may be the twins' if they come back to Mirkwood - Legolas really doesn't like it when somebody touches his weapons... *g* Oh, yes. *nods head* They sure are protective of each other. LOL, no, I don't think that the baddies want a handsome elf! What should they do with him? Ack, wait a second, better _don't_ answer that! *wide-eyed* Hannibal is leader of the A-team, huh? And I really can't see why he even bothered with the elephants - he still lost! *shakes head* Men...  
Arwen-Evenstar - *blushes* Now, it wasn't _that_ good - but thanks for saying it anyway! *g* Glad you like it so much, thanks for the review!  
CrazyLOTRfan - *hangs head* I know, this wasn't a cliffy - I'm so ashamed of myself... Sorry, no cliffy this time! But the next chapter has one, promise! As does chapter 8 and probably 9... *evil grin* But yes, you're the first to complain, somehow most don't like cliffies - I don't know why either! *g*  
Leggylover03 - Don't worry, here's the next bit, see? I try to update every four days, hope that's soon enough for you! Thanks for reviewing!  
Miss Understood - Elrohir and Elladan trained your balrog? *gulps* Okay, but I still have Fred sr. my pet warg and a few nazgûl that live in my bathroom. See? YOu can't win!! Mhahahaah! Hmm, thinking about it, I don't miss my father, no. I just never think about him, that's probably why. And c'est la vie means 'That's life'. Sorry! I don't know any French either, just the things that are more or less common knowledge - you know, the stuff you hear in movies and such. *shrugs and grins* C'est la vie.  
Alilacia - Yeah, the TTT soundtrack really isn't that cheerful, is it? *narrows eyes* How did you know that something bad will happen to Legolas? *shrugs* Might be because this is one of my stories and something bad is bound to happen... *evil grin* LIVE is great, really. There is that one CD, 'The distance to here', which is the only CD I can think of I like. I mean, I like all the songs, without exception, and that has never happened before. Good luck with your new job!  
Alexa - Uhm, well, yes, poor Aragorn - but he won't talk about it for a while, I'm afraid - the way things are going right now, probably in chapter 11 or something... You might be correct about the twins, I think - they do not forgive easily. *g* 'Wicked soon', huh? Well, I don't know, I hope this was soon enough!  
ThE iNsAnE oNe - Oh, you hurt your ankle? Poor you! *hands her 'Nólad maintenance kit' as a get-well-present* I still remember what my knee felt like when I wrenched it - as if someone was squeezing it in a vice, actually... *g* Oh, Elladan and Elrohir are quite vengeful, aren't they? Understandable, actually... *g* LOL, Elrohir has rabies now?? *giggles* Serves him right. *frowns* Why would Nólad run away when he heard my name? I don't get it, really... *g* Hope your ankle gets better soon! *huggles her carefully* I'll go and see if I can find Elrond. ELROND!!! *in the distance, a panic-stricken scream can be heard, followed by the sounds of someone running away very fast* Don't worry, I'll find him... *g*  
Helen T - Talk with Hithrawyn? Are you mad? *g* He would probably seize the chance to poison poor Estel... Hmm, usually I try to make my readers happy, but I really don't think I can shueezw in a szene like that. I fear it would interrupt the flow of the story, since Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir do not make an appearance in this story anymore.... Pehaps I could do it in a letter to Thranduil from Elrond or something like that... *shrugs* I don't know yet, I'll think about it. Holiday!? Hah! Certainly not! All other people ARE on holiday, you're right there, but our term ends Mid-July. Great. And then we have exams, after the end of term, yes. Don't ask.  
  
**Thanks for all the reviews! They really help a lot, especially when you're _supposed_ to do something else than post on FF.net... *g***  
  
  
  
  



	7. Silent Fears

**Disclaimer: **For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.  
  
  
**A/N:  
  
Well, I'm sorry for not posting this on Friday, but it wasn't MY fault! *accusing look at FF.net* I _couldn't _ upload the chapter, and I did try! Really! Sometimes, I really, really hate FF.net, and I think it returns my feelings whole-heartedly...** **It ate my last 30+** **reviews, for cryin' out loud!!!** **All the reviews between Aralodwen's and Salara's have been deleted. I got the review alerts and could read them, but they don't show on the review board. *takes out sword to dismember FF.net* We hatessss it, we doessss, preciousssss....**  
  
**Ah well, as I said, sorry. I did what I could.**  
  
**Mhahahaha! It is SO much fun to know things you don't! And let me tell you, your guesses are all so far off! *giggles a bit more* Okay... *wipes eyes* Sorry, I'm a bit hyper today. Must be the sun, I'm like a solar cell, the more sunlight the more energy... *g*  
  
Well, I'll stop this inane babbling now ... Shire!! Baggins! *hits head against desktop* Again, a Gollum moment; I think I'm turning into some kind of slimy, treacherous, ring-loving, schizophrenic, jewellery-petting, sun-hating creature myself. I know: What's the difference to now, then? *g*  
  
  
Okay, here's chapter 7, in which they actually get to Lake-town! Yay them! There's not too much actions though (it's all in chapter 8 and 9), but we have lots of angst for everybody, and this time I can't even blame the music for it. Blast. Must be my evil nature, then... *evil grin*  
  
So, have fun and review, please!**  
  
  
  


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Chapter 7  
  
  
Celylith looked around their little camp, surveying the snow-covered scenery for any signs of hostiles or predators looking for an easy meal. He seriously doubted that any spiders were living in this area, but one could never be too careful.   
  
While he would very much welcome the opportunity to learn more about the beasts' social habits, he doubted that his friends would share this feeling. Besides, even his enthusiasm had suffered somewhat from their last encounter with the arachnids, even though he still hadn't forgiven Legolas for forcing him to let Wilwarin go.  
  
The silver haired elf cocked his head to the side when he heard a small shuffling noise, and he turned his eyes from the small fire the human boy had kindled to the right, just in time to see Aragorn emerge from the shrubbery, carrying an armful of long, slender dead branches for their campfire and wearing a rather smug grin that Celylith couldn't really understand.  
  
He had just opened his mouth to ask the young ranger that was noisily coming closer what was so very funny when he realised that both the human and Legolas had left to look for firewood. Cursing inwardly, he tried to turn to the left, but this move proved to be seconds too late as he felt the cold steel of a blade against his neck.  
  
"Careless, my friend, very careless," his elven friend's soft voice sounded right next to his head. "If even Estel can distract you so that you don't hear my approach, I shudder to think of what might happen if you encountered a pair of orcs intelligent enough to split up."  
  
Celylith growled and turned his head to the left, forcing Legolas to pull back his knife if he didn't want to hurt his friend. He glared at the grinning elven prince in front of him, ignoring Aragorn's soft chuckle somewhere to his right.  
  
"The day I meet an intelligent orc will be the day I meet a Ringwraith that likes to dress in red," he snapped, trying to stop the blood from rushing to his face in embarrassment. "Besides, you are a little bit stealthier than an orc. Not much," he added with an evil glint in his eyes, "but a little."  
  
Legolas ignored that last remark and returned his knife to its sheath while he sat down on a log next to Celylith, rummaging through his pack and pulling out numerous small packets containing lembas and fruit.   
  
"Just admit that I am stealthier than you, my friend," he said, silver-blue eyes dancing merrily. "We have been playing this game for more than two thousand years, and you haven't won for more than five centuries, if my memory serves me right."  
  
Aragorn laughed at that, adding more wood to the fire and watching how the fire consumed the fuel greedily, melting the snow that surrounded the small pit they'd dug. He smiled at Seobryn who just returned from the horses with the last of their sleeping mats, still looking rather nervous in light of the two elves that sat across the camp fire.  
  
"Really?" he asked, spearing the mountain hare Legolas had shot earlier today on a spit and securing it on two forked sticks he had burrowed in the ground on either side of the fire. "That is a rather long time, Master Elf."  
  
Celylith glared at the ranger.  
"I will have you know, Master Human, that I have won my dear prince's childish game at least once."  
  
"Oh? And when would that have been?" Legolas asked and raised a questioning eyebrow.  
  
"During the Fell Winter forty years ago," Celylith stated, looking at his friend in satisfaction.  
  
The fair haired elf's brow wrinkled slightly while his hands played with the string of his new bow.  
"The Fell Winter?" he asked. "What, there we were attacked by the wolves!"  
  
"But I heard you approach," Celylith pointed out, smirking at the prince.  
  
"Of course you did! I was being trailed by a pack of them! No-one could have overheard us!"  
  
"Do not try to reason yourself out of it, _mellonamin_," the silver haired elf said, ignoring the human that was roaring with laughter by now and giving both him and the smiling Seobryn an evil look. "I heard you. That's a fact."  
  
Legolas threw up his hands, mock despair in his eyes.  
"I give up! Why _ada_ has insisted on you coming along I will never understand."  
  
Celylith grabbed some of the elvish waybread and passed it on to the two young humans who sat close to the fire to ward off the cold that was beginning to even intensify now that darkness was beginning to fall.  
  
"The answer to that question is very simple, my lord. I am here to make sure that neither you nor that ranger gets yourself killed on an ordinary journey to an allied town, something that you are entirely capable of."  
  
Legolas and Aragorn traded a hurt look.  
  
"I don't know of what you speak, Celylith," Legolas retorted and opened a small packet containing dried berries. "We are perfectly able to look after ourselves."  
  
Celylith just stared at them before he began chuckling loudly. After a few second, he began to giggle, and after that it quickly reached the scale of a full-fledged hysteric fit.  
  
Seobryn watched in wonder as the elven prince and the ranger merely looked at each other and returned their attention to their food. The other elf seemed to be unperturbed by his companions' silence, for it took him at least ten minutes to regain control of himself.  
  
"You?" Celylith finally gasped, fighting off a renewed wave of giggles. "You two? Able to look after yourselves? Elbereth, that is a good jest if I ever heard one…"  
  
Aragorn merely raised a dark eyebrow and ignored his elven friend.  
  
"Seobryn," he said, turning to the boy who was nibbling at his piece of lembas suspiciously, "Tell us about your new employer."  
  
The young man looked up with wide eyes, obviously more than uncomfortable at being the centre of the general attention.  
"Well, he … he is a trader," he said, shooting Legolas and Celylith furtive glances.  
  
The elven prince smiled at that.  
"Yes, that is something we had already gathered. What is his name?"  
  
Seobryn looked at him, looking slightly surprised that the elf had talked to him like a normal person. Perhaps Str… Estel had been right after all and elves were not that bad…  
  
"His name is Owaeran," he said, beginning to smile as well. "He is the guild master in Lake-town and trades with the southern lands, Mirkwood and even lands to the west, like Rohan."  
  
The boy's voice sounded awed at the mere thought. To him the land of the Horse-lords sounded an impossibly long distance away.  
  
"So he is successful?" Aragorn inquired, smiling at the other man's enthusiasm.  
  
"I think so," Seobryn replied carefully, obviously determined not to believe anything until he had seen proof. Legolas shook his head slightly. Sometimes he found it most tragic indeed how quickly humans had to grow up. This boy was even younger than Aragorn and already suspicious and wary.  
  
"I'm sure you will be just fine," Aragorn smiled at the younger human. "King Thranduil would only have invited an established and successful trader. Everything will be alright."  
  
"Yes," Celylith chimed in, grinning slightly. He pointed at the piece of lembas Seobryn had barely touched. "But you need to eat. Besides, refusing the king's food is considered a severe affront."  
  
"Celylith…" Legolas muttered warningly.  
  
The silver haired elf ignored him and continued, his grin broadening when he looked at the wide-eyed human.  
  
"Lembas is our…" he paused for a second, frowning in thought, "…our sacred food. If you don't eat it, you show an unforgivable disrespect. And since Legolas here is the prince, he would have to defend the honour of his father and king and would have to kill you." Celylith grin grew even more wicked. "But it would have to be a slow and painful death; he would start with…"  
  
Aragorn turned from where he had been stoking the fire and glared at the elven warrior, motioning at the petrified boy across the fire.  
  
"Celylith! Stop it!" he hissed in Elvish. "He believes you, can't you see that? He is scared enough as it is!"  
  
"Strider is right," Legolas agreed. "The boy will die of fright if you don't stop it now. Apologise to him!"  
  
The silver haired elf began to chuckle and turned to Seobryn who shot Legolas fearful glances and looked very much as if he were contemplating how to escape from here as quickly as possible.  
  
"I am sorry, Master Human," he said and inclined his head. "I spoke only in jest. No-one here will harm you. Here," he offered the boy some fruit, "if the food is not to your liking, have some of these. I meant no offence."  
  
Seobryn looked hard at the elf and stretched out his hand to reach for the fruit.  
"None taken, Master Elf," he said, determined to show the other that he wasn't afraid of him, which he wasn't. Not really, anyway.  
  
Aragorn stood up, intent on breaking the rather uncomfortable silence.  
"Well, I will start setting up the tents. It will be dark soon."  
  
The two elves looked at each other.  
"Tents?"  
  
The young ranger rolled his eyes.  
"Yes, tents. In case you hadn't noticed, there is a ten-inch-snow cover on the ground."  
  
Legolas looked at him, a playful sparkle in his eyes.  
"And your point is?"  
  
Aragorn shook his head in exasperation.  
"And they say elves are the superior species…" he muttered under his breath, knowing full well that his elven companions would be able to hear him. "How I shall survive another day in your company Ilúvatar alone knows."  
  
He stepped closer to Celylith and dragged the surprised elf to his feet.  
"And my dear friend Celylith will help me," he declared and smiled friendly at the elven warrior. "We will have a nice little chat about playing tricks on those who are younger and less experienced than oneself."  
  
Celylith shot Legolas a pleading glance which the elven prince ignored, shrugging lightly. In a matter of seconds the two of them had disappeared into the directions of the horses, Aragorn's slightly smaller figure still having a firm grip on the elf's arm who was walking lightly on top of the snow.  
  
Seobryn shot Legolas a questioning look.  
"Is it always like this?"  
  
Legolas pondered this for a moment before he looked at the human.  
"No. Usually it's even worse."  
  
"I thought so," Seobryn answered seriously, returning his attention to the hare over the fire and listening to the snatches of conversation that filtered through the trees, both in Elvish and in Common.  
  
Legolas smiled, staring into the dancing flames of the fire. This trip had been a good idea indeed, and hopefully it would help take his human friend's thoughts off his nightmares as well.  
  
Besides, they had travelled the whole day without encountering anything even remotely hostile, and since they should arrive in Esgaroth tomorrow evening, they had already covered more than half of the distance.  
  
It was indeed looking as if they would manage to return home without a scratch, if they managed to avoid all dangers on their way back as well. His father would be very pleased, Legolas thought wryly, and probably more than a little bit surprised.  
  
And to surprise his father was quite hard indeed, so it was more than worth a try.  
  
  
  
  
The darkness was slowly lessening, and Celylith slowly tapped against the wood of his bow that lay across his lap. He loved watching the sunrise, loved the way the sunlight began to make its way through the trees until the forest shone in all its glory. For outsiders it may be a dim, dark glory, the young captain mused, but Mirkwood was his home, and he couldn't imagine living anywhere else.  
  
Although, he thought sadly, the Sea was even more beautiful. Once, when he had been younger, he had journeyed to the West to watch his mother and sister board one of the ships that left the Grey Havens for Valinor.   
  
He sighed sadly when a band of grief seemed to tighten around his chest, constricting around his heart until he felt as if he had to gasp for air. He missed them, he missed them horribly, especially at this time of night. He and his little sister had always liked to watch the sunrise, but since Calowiël had set sail, he just couldn't enjoy it like he had before.  
  
'Fool,' he cursed himself angrily, trying in vain to shake off the dark memories, 'You should know better than to think of her at sunrise.'  
  
But try as he might, he just couldn't escape the images of his sister's dull, lifeless eyes or the cries of sheer, overwhelming, heart-wrenching despair she had uttered when the battered hunting party had returned, bringing home her dead fiancée.   
Celylith closed his eyes and shook his head, remembering how Calowiël had wept for days, refusing to believe that her beloved was truly dead. After that dreadful day more than five hundred years ago she had never been like before, and so she and their mother had taken the ships in the hope that her wounded heart might find peace and healing in the Undying Lands, and, possibly, one day a new love.  
  
He wished for that with all his heart; he had never wanted anything else than to see his younger sister happy. And she had to be happier there than she had been during her last days on Arda, he reasoned, trying to cheer himself up. It was rather seldom that a wood-elf felt the urge to journey to the Havens, even though it happened more and more frequently of late. The Silvan elves were more attached to Arda than those of Noldorin descent, for they had never travelled West and set foot on the shores of Aman, and so he or she had to hear the call of the Sea very strongly or had to be close indeed to falling into despair.  
  
No, he thought, straightening himself, he missed her, but that was better than having to watch her die of a broken heart. One day he and his father would join them in the Blessed Realm, and when he saw the once again sparkling blue eyes of his sister, it would be the reward that justified the long separation.  
  
Forcing his thoughts away from this topic, he turned his attention to the two rather unsteady looking tents whose dark canvas contrasted sharply against the gleaming white snow. Humans, he thought with an internal chuckle, a truly fascinating race. Not on the same level as spiders, of course, but still… It was puzzling how many weaknesses they seemed to have, but then again they possessed just as many strengths. Fascinating indeed.  
  
He smiled thinly when he imagined what Aragorn would say once the human realised that he hadn't been woken for his watch. After the two humans had gone to sleep, Legolas had stated that he wouldn't wake his friend, and neither would Celylith. The silver haired elf had taken one look at his friend's steely eyes and nodded quietly, knowing that Legolas' mind was set on this.  
  
He didn't know whether Legolas wanted to grant Strider a few more hours of sleep and didn't see the necessity of waking the human when there were two persons who didn't even need to sleep or whether he just wanted to annoy the ranger, but he knew better than to question his prince. Legolas wouldn't explain and he certainly wouldn't change his mind, and so the two of them had stayed awake and kept watch.  
  
Now it was his turn to watch over the camp, and Legolas had gone off a few hours ago to scout the terrain and practice a bit with his new bow. And what a bow it was, Celylith thought enviously. Perhaps he should somehow trick Estel in breaking his so that the human would have to give him a new one as well…  
  
Grinning slightly, he allowed himself to come up with various plans to achieve that goal, and even though he had to admit that one sounded more unlikely than the next, it was a most entertaining pastime.   
  
Just when he had thought of the thirteenth way to make Estel break his bow, his keen elven hearing detected a small sound that drew his attention. He stood and tried to locate the source of the noise, his right hand straying close to his quiver.   
  
No, he thought, frowning in confusion, it wasn't a sound outside of their camp, and he could neither see nor sense a hostile presence, or any foreign presence at all. He quickly ruled out the possibility that Legolas was sneaking up on him again, not even Legolas would do that when he was the only one guarding the camp. A single guard was always more alert and nervous than several, and Legolas knew perfectly well that he might end up with an arrow in his heart if he tried something like that.  
  
Another, slightly louder noise sounded, and Celylith whirled around, only to find the space behind him empty except for the tents the two humans slept in.  
He cocked his head slightly to the side when he heard small shuffling sounds, as if someone was rolling from side to side, and suddenly the pieces fell into place. One of the men was having a nightmare.  
  
Feeling slightly embarrassed at not having been able to realise this sooner, he quickly walked over to the tents, listening closely to the sounds that emanated from the left one. It was Estel who was suffering the dream, he learned seconds later, for he truly didn't think that Seobryn had learned to speak Elvish without the slightest accent.  
  
Soundlessly he pulled back the front flap and peered inside of the tiny dark space.  
  
Strider was tossing and turning in his sleep, muttering under his breath both in Westron and Elvish. Just when Celylith stretched out his hand to touch the restless human, Aragorn sat bolt upright, grey eyes wild and unseeing. The silver haired elf quickly withdrew his hand, eyeing his friend for any signs of lucidity.  
  
After a little while of watching the panting human trying to calm his breathing, he asked,  
  
"Estel? Are you awake? Are you alright?"  
  
The young ranger blinked a few times, for the first time noticing that he wasn't alone in the tent.  
  
"Yes," he finally mumbled, trying to identify the person that stood in the entrance shadowed in twilight. "Celylith?"  
  
"Aye, Strider, it's me," the elf reassured the human, surveying him closely. The ranger would probably not thank him if he stayed here, he thought, he didn't know him as well as Legolas did and he doubted that Aragorn wanted anyone to see him in such a confused state.  
  
He quickly removed his waterskin from his belt and placed it next to the still shaken human.  
  
"I will be outside," he said simply, ducking his head when he stepped back out.  
  
Celylith had enough time to stoke the fire and look around for some lembas before Aragorn emerged from his tent, now looking more awake and composed, but still definitely uncomfortable.  
  
"Thank you," he said quietly, handing back the waterskin.   
  
"There's no need for that, Estel," Celylith replied, motioning the young human to take a seat at the fire and studying him closely.  
  
Fully aware of the elf's scrutiny, Aragorn still didn't say anything before he raised his head a few minutes later and looked the other in the eye.  
  
"Where is Legolas?" he asked, a guarded expression on his face.  
  
"Oh, somewhere close by," Celylith waved his hand dismissively. "He went to scout the terrain and have a shot with his new bow."  
  
"I see," Aragorn mumbled, averting his eyes.  
  
The elf studied him for a few seconds before he picked up a bit of lembas and pushed it into the human's hands.   
  
"Here," he said, giving him a tentative smile. "Eating always helped me deal with the nightmares. I haven't had one for centuries now, but I still remember what they made me feel like."  
  
Celylith shuddered slightly, remembering the vivid dreams he had had, the ones about him watching his beloved little sister die of a broken heart. And before that tragedy, the ones he'd had when Legolas and he had been captured by a pack of orcs close to the Misty Mountains about eight hundred years ago.   
  
Glónduil and a dozen other warriors had found them before the orcs had grown tired of their "playthings" and killed them, but it hadn't been soon enough to prevent him from suffering through more nightmares about that time than he ever wished to remember.  
  
The ranger smiled thinly at him and took the offered food, taking a small bite. Another long silence descended until Aragorn once again spoke.  
  
"Don't tell him," he simply pleaded, looking at the silver haired elf imploringly.  
  
"Strider…" Celylith began, but was interrupted by Aragorn's determined voice.  
  
"Celylith," he turned steely silver eyes on the elf, eyes that right now looked more elvish than a human's eyes rightly should, "Do not tell him. He will only worry, yet there is nothing he can do. Please, do not burden him with this."  
  
The elven warrior looked at him with troubled midnight blue eye, trying to decide what to do. He wanted to go along with Aragorn's wishes since he obviously was so determined about this, but if Legolas ever found out that he had known about the young human's nightmares and hadn't informed him about them, he would be … well, beyond furious.  
  
'The best thing I can hope for in that case is a century of guard duty in the dungeons,' he thought dryly. 'The most likely outcome is a violent death though.'  
  
He sighed as he looked into the dead-serious eyes of the young man.  
  
"Alright," he said reluctantly, his serious face almost breaking into a smile when he saw the relief in the silver depths. "I promise you I will not tell Legolas. But only if you promise me something as well."  
  
"What?" Aragorn asked suspiciously, putting the last bit of lembas into his mouth. It never ceased to amaze him how differently the waybread tasted in Mirkwood in comparison to the one the elves of Rivendell made.  
  
"That you will tell him about them. I do not say now, human," he added mockingly when the ranger wanted to protest, "And I do not say tomorrow, but promise me you will let him help you, soon. Besides, you won't be able to avoid him forever."  
  
"I know," Aragorn retorted and sighed deeply. After a heartbeat's pause he raised his head and said grumpily, "Fine. I will tell him. Later. You have my word."  
  
"That is all I want, _dúnadan_" the silver haired elf smiled and briefly put a hand on the human's shoulder.  
  
They sat at the fire in companionable silence until they heard the faint sounds of an approaching elf who was obviously carrying something rather heavy.  
  
Aragorn looked at the other with narrowed eyes, causing the elf to smile against his will.  
  
"I keep my promises, Estel," he said softly, rising to his feet. "Don't worry. Do you want to wake the boy or do you want me to do it? I will gladly…"  
  
"No," Aragorn said quickly and stood up. "You go and see what Legolas has shot for breakfast. By the sound of it he could use some help, it's apparently quite heavy. I will wake Seobryn. Your face in the morning would probably be enough to send him to an early grave."  
  
Celylith just grinned and disappeared between the trees, his soft footfall not leaving a trace on the pristine mantle of snow that covered the ground.   
  
Aragorn looked after him for a second before he turned back to the tents, shaking his head to get rid of the last shreds of the dream that still clung to his mind. He was really getting tired of them, quite literally actually. He knew he couldn't go on like this for much longer, but he just didn't know what to do.  
  
'Do what you have promised Celylith – tell Legolas,' a small voice inside his head advised.  
  
The young human snorted softly. How could he? He just couldn't tell Legolas, out of the same reason why he hadn't been able to tell his father. These dreams paraded his very worst fears in front of his eyes, and the last persons he would be able to tell about them were his father and best friend.  
  
No, he thought, about to pull back Seobryn's tent flap, he couldn't tell him. Not now anyway. He would tell him when he was ready, he decided stubbornly, gazing down at the sleeping human in front of him whose longish light brown hair was spread out on the bundled up cloak that served him as a pillow, and not a second earlier.  
  
As he bent down to shake the other man awake, he tried to ignore the voice that roared with laughter at that, telling him that he wouldn't be ready, that he would never be ready and that he would drown in these images if he didn't talk about them soon.  
  
  
  
  
Legolas eyed the innocent faces of his friends suspiciously. They never looked this innocent, and if they by some chance did, it was never a good sign.  
  
He shook his head and turned his eyes back on the snow covered path, pushing back his annoyance. Usually he didn't mind if his friends played a little joke on him, but this was something different. He had the distinct feeling that there was something he should know, but judging by the angelic expressions both the human and the elf wore, he wouldn't find out any time soon.  
  
He gave a low growl of annoyance. It was truly exceptional how easily Aragorn managed to irritate him, and Celylith's presence didn't help in the slightest, either.  
  
Tonight he would force one of them to tell him what this was all about, he decided grimly, and they'd better tell him what he wanted to know. If he had to, he could be just as stubborn and persistent as his human friend. While he wasn't sure about Aragorn, he was convinced that Celylith wouldn't stand a chance against him if he set his mind on learning what was going on.  
  
Meanwhile, Aragorn had watched his friend warily while at the same time trying to behave as normally as possibly. He sighed lightly, casting down his eyes. He didn't need his father's wisdom to know that he was behaving irrationally, but there was nothing he could do.   
He knew that Legolas knew that there was something wrong with him, something that wouldn't even escape the most unobservant of people. He also knew that Legolas knew that he knew that and expected him to explain – as a sensible person should, the voice in his head remarked smugly once again. But he could not; it would help no-one if he burdened his elven friend with his weaknesses.  
  
Refusing to think about this topic any longer, he turned to Legolas and asked the first thing that came to his mind.  
  
"When will we be arriving?" he questioned, trying very much not to sound like an impatient child.  
  
Seobryn shot him a thankful glance. That was exactly what he had been longing to ask for a long time now, since they had been travelling most of the day and he was beginning to feel a little bit tired. Just a tiny little bit, of course, and he would be damned if he admitted that in front of the elves.  
  
Legolas cocked his head to the side, an amused sparkle in his eyes.  
"Why, Strider? Do you require rest?"  
  
"Of course not!" Aragorn replied, glaring darkly at the broadly grinning Celylith. "I was just wondering because darkness will be falling soon."  
  
"I see," the fair haired elf replied, lifting an eyebrow slightly. "Not much longer I think. It's been quite a long while since I have travelled to Esgaroth, and since the death of Smaug the dragon the entire forest here has changed."  
  
"When was the last time you came here?" Seobryn asked curiously.  
  
"Oh, that would have been … about 130 years ago," Legolas answered, smilingly noting the young man's obvious fascination.  
  
"So you didn't fight the goblins at the Lonely Mountain twelve years ago?" the young man dared another question.  
  
Aragorn winced at that. That hadn't been the best thing to ask his friend.  
  
"No, I did not," Legolas replied curtly, his eyes darkening. "I remained in Mirkwood to protect our home."  
  
But that had only been after he had had the loudest argument with his father the palace had ever heard. They were both too much alike to get along easily, with a quick temper and quite a lot of pride, and so the King and the Prince of Mirkwood had a fight once in a while, and everybody knew that. But that fight, Legolas recounted ruefully, had been the worst since more than half a millennium.  
  
Legolas hadn't been able to, no, he hadn't _wanted_ to understand what could possibly be so important that his father risked the lives of his warriors to pursue thirteen dwarves that had escaped their prisons – how they had done so remained a mystery up to this day, although Legolas had his suspicions.   
Here Thranduil's love for the treasure he hoped to acquire from the _gonnhirrim_ – if they had even survived their encounter with the dragon that was jealously guarding the hoard – had gone too far, and that was exactly what he had told his father, loud enough for the entire forest to hear.  
  
Legolas winced at the memory. The encounter had gone progressively worse from that point on, and had ended with them not speaking to each other for about a year and an order to remain in Mirkwood and guard their home while his father had left with an army to demand a share of the treasure.  
  
In the end, it had been fortunate that the elven army had been at the foot of the Lonely Mountain, for without the warriors' help the goblins and wargs would surely have destroyed the assembled armies of the dwarves and humans, even with the help of the eagles and Beorn himself.  
  
But still, many of his kin had remained on the battlefield, having given their lives to protect the eastern lands from the Enemy, and really, the goblins had been decimated to the point when running across them in the Misty Mountains, like he seemed to do continuously, was a rare occurrence indeed.  
  
Sensing his friend's dark mood, Aragorn commented,  
  
"Well, I was but ten years old when that happened, and, if I remember correctly, had just discovered the many uses for dog rose juice. Valar, was Elrohir angry when I put it on his bed sheets one evening! That was after he had stopped itching, of course…"  
  
His companions laughed, but Aragorn paid them no heed, because he was sure that he had seen it this time: The slight twitching of Legolas' horse's tail and the wicked look that stole over its eyes. He frowned and looked a little bit more closely, manoeuvring his horse closer to his friend's gleaming white one.   
  
"Yes," he added, "Elrohir was furious indeed."  
  
He studied the horse intensely, and really, there it was: The horse flicked its tail in obvious annoyance and looked around, apparently trying to locate the younger twin once it heard his name.  
  
"Legolas?" he asked, slowly averting his averting from the animal to look at his friend who had watched him, shooting him a mildly curious look.  
  
"Yes, my friend?" the elf retorted, gracing the human with a questioning look.  
  
"Does your horse know that Elrohir is my brother?"  
  
Legolas blinked perplexedly. That was a question he certainly hadn't expected. He was about to ask the ranger what he meant by that, when he noted his horse's strange behaviour at the mentioning of the dark haired elf.  
  
"No, Strider," he said slyly, eyeing the nervous human. "No, I haven't. But, to be honest, I was just about to…"  
  
"Remember, dear friend," Aragorn interrupted him, "I am but a lowly human and not as resilient as an elf. If that demon-hor…, Rashwe, of course, forgive me, if Rashwe kills me, you and Celylith will have to inform my father."  
  
"He won't tell," Celylith assured the ranger quickly, nothing but panic in his eyes at that prospect. "Right, Legolas?"  
  
Legolas just grinned and shrugged, causing his human friend to laugh as well.  
  
They continued their journey in amiable silence, only now and then breaking the stillness to answer one of Seobryn's questions. Now that the boy had got used to them a little more, and now that they had left the rather oppressive forest behind, he couldn't stop the questions that seemed to flow continuously from his lips, asking them about Lake-town, the dragon, Mirkwood and about a thousand other things in between.  
  
Slowly darkness was descending, but they pressed on, since both Celylith and Legolas were sure that it couldn't be very much farther now. Just when Aragorn was convinced that they had lost their way and wanted to voice this opinion, Legolas who had ridden in front of their little group reined in his horse before stopping completely.  
  
He turned back to his companions.  
"See, Strider?" he asked, having guessed the young human's thoughts. "We are not lost. I told you it wasn't far."  
  
"Yes, about fifteen times in the past two hours," Seobryn mumbled under his breath, just to turn scarlet when he realised that the elf had of course been able to understand him.  
  
The elven prince gave the boy a stern look before glaring darkly at his snickering human friend. If he wasn't careful, Aragorn was going to corrupt that young man with that sarcastic humour of his.  
  
The others joined him on the little hill that was overlooking a vast valley, and Legolas could see the two humans stiffen in surprise.  
  
Before them lay the Long Lake, and now as always Legolas longed for nothing more than to watch the waves break on the shore of the vast waters, and to keep watching until the ends of time. He had always imagined that the Sea would look like this, huge and beautiful, water as far as the eye could see.  
  
But this definitely was not the Sea, for his elven eyes could spy the northern end of the lake. They were standing just next to the spot where the Forest River met the Long Lake. It was shaped like a large oval, with the River Running meeting it in the north, coming down from Erebor, the Lonely Mountain where it had its source, and the Forest River in the West. On the southern end the lake was drained by the River Running or the Celduin in the grey tongue that tumbled over high waterfalls to flow all the way down to the vast Sea of Rhûn.   
  
And on the surface of the lake, shining invitingly in the growing twilight, there was Lake-town. It didn't look much different from what the elven prince remembered from his last visit, only perhaps that it looked fairer and more beautiful than those 130 years ago. Twelve years ago Smaug had destroyed the town when he had fallen into the lake, his evil heart pierced by an arrow fired by Bard, a descendant of the last Lord of Dale who had lost his life when the dragon had descended on his realm more than 150 years ago, therefore ridding this part of Wilderland from that terror and avenging his ancestors.  
  
The elven army led by King Thranduil himself was on its way to the Lonely Mountain when they heard of the Lake-men's plight, and had changed course to lend their assistance. The town had been rebuilt with the help of the wood-elves, and it had risen from the ashes more beautiful than ever. Now the houses were not only located on the shimmering surface of the Long Lake but also on the shores, and there were several wooden bridges that led across the water to the buildings that stood on stilts high above the water levels instead of the single big one, but the original concept had not been abandoned now that the threat of the dragon was gone.   
  
The Lake-men were obviously loath to part with this tradition that had served its purpose for so many years, and Legolas could very well understand them. The fact that their town had been built on the lake and not next to it had saved many lives twelve years ago.  
  
Legolas smiled slightly, allowing himself to lose himself in the picture that spread out in front of his eyes. Close to the shore there was already a layer of ice covering the water, but in the middle of the lake the water still remained uncovered, shimmering dark and beautiful in the dying sunlight.  
  
To the elf it almost seemed as if the waters were calling to him, beckoning him to come closer and listen to them until they lulled him to sleep with their gentle rippling…  
  
Legolas started out of his daydreams when a gentle hand closed around his forearm, drawing him back to the present. Surprised, he looked away from the lake into the sadly smiling face of his human friend. He blinked slowly, realising that Seobryn and Celylith were already steering their horses into the direction of the town, leaving Aragorn and him alone on the small hill.  
  
He looked the young man in the eye, frowning slightly when he saw the understanding and sadness in the silver orbs.  
  
Aragorn just kept looking at him, tightening his grip on him slightly.  
  
"Not yet, my friend," he finally said softly, eyes huge and pleading in the twilight. "It is not yet your time. Not yet, please."  
  
Legolas returned the smile, realising with a heavy heart that this was one of Aragorn's childhood fears: To be left behind by his elven family and friends. To wake up one day and find them gone, find that they had left him in the night to pass into the West where he could never follow. To be left in a hostile world without the comfort of family or friends, a world that would grow dark and cheerless without the firstborn, something that every persons who had ever met an elf knew.  
  
He grasped his friend's arm tightly, trying to reassure him with his touch.  
"Do not worry, my friend," he said, smiling at the anxious face in front of him. "It will be a long time before I hear the call of the Sea. I will not leave you, not yet, my friend. Not for a very long time indeed. Not for a long time."  
  
'If ever,' he added silently to himself. He had no intentions of leaving Arda as long as Aragorn was still alive, a fact that he hadn't even told his father. But somehow, his father probably knew, just like he always knew these things.  
  
Aragorn smiled back at him, furiously blinking back the tears that had gathered in the corners of his eyes.  
"Not for a long time," he echoed. "I will hold you to that promise, _mellonamin_."  
  
"Always, Estel," Legolas replied, stealing a last look at the lake before he began to manoeuvre his horse down the hill. "When have I ever broken a promise to you?"  
  
The human looked seriously at him, following his friend down the small ridge.  
"Never."  
  
The fair haired elf only inclined his head, and together they made their way down into the valley, leaving behind the growing darkness and striving for the twinkling lights of the town.  
  
  
  
  
Seobryn stifled a yawn and tried to concentrate on his surroundings. After what seemed like an eternity the guards that were posted at the foot of the main bridge had been convinced that they were harmless enough and had granted them access to the town.  
  
He shot the ranger who was riding next to him an admiring look. Estel had quickly settled into the role of a spokesman, assuring his elven companions that this was the best for all of them. While the Lake-men were friends and allies of the elves of Mirkwood, after the Battle of Five Armies more than ever, it was better if he dealt with the guards than an easily irritated, proud elf.   
  
And the guards had been quite suspicious indeed, and somehow Seobryn had the feeling that they hadn't even got past them if he hadn't had his letter of recommendation his future employer had given him on his departure from the woodking's halls. The document and the presence of the elves seemed to have convinced the men that they were no threat and came indeed from Mirkwood as they claimed. They had in fact got quite friendly and had even pointed them into the direction in that Master Owaeran's house was located, somewhere on the artificial island that lay farthest to the east.  
  
There was the problem though that none of them knew the newly built city and that – since most of the city was made of wood – no torches or lamps illuminated the wooden footbridges, and so they had quickly got lost in the dark town.  
  
Behind him, he could hear Estel snort softly.  
"Ha! Elven sense of direction, very funny!"  
  
One of the elves, probably the prince, Seobryn decided, growled threateningly.  
"Be quiet, reckless human. You are no better! Aren't rangers supposed to find their way nearly everywhere?"  
  
"In the wild, yes," the man replied lightly. "Not in a town."  
  
"A _human_ town," the elf stressed. "No elf could possibly build something as confusing and mazy."  
  
The ranger gave a short laugh at that.  
"No? Well, I got lost in that cave system of yours you like to call a 'palace' more than once…"  
  
The elf's voice sounded as icy as the cold air all around them now.  
"My – home – is – not – a – cave, human."  
  
"Of course it isn't," Estel teased. "Whatever gave me that idea?"  
  
"Could you be quiet for a second, please?" the other elf demanded. "Why didn't you tell the _edain_ who you are, Legolas? They would surely have given us an escort had they known they accommodated the Prince of Mirkwood."  
  
"I don't want people to fuss over me, that is why," Legolas replied tensely. "And I think we are here."  
  
Seobryn looked up. On the right they neared a big wooden house that looked definitely wealthier than the others, there was even a small stable next to it. That was the reason why the guards had allowed them to take their horses with them as long as they promised not to mount them, because usually it was not permitted to bring animals of that size onto the wooden islands.  
  
The young man looked at the building, brushing a strand of light brown hair out of his eyes. That was it then, his future home. Suddenly he felt very young and insecure and more than a little bit tempted to simply turn and run away.  
  
"Everything will be fine," a soft voice behind him spoke, and he turned to look into the face of his new friend, Estel.  
  
Seobryn smiled bravely.  
"I know. I'm just a little nervous, that's all."  
  
"Understandable," Legolas nodded his head, smiling as well. "They know you are arriving today?"  
  
The young man nodded.  
"Yes. Although I do not know whether it's not a little too late already."  
  
Aragorn frowned and sent an assessing glance at the dark sky.  
"No, it shouldn't be. It's late, but not uncourtly so. If you are expected it should be fine." He turned back to the others. "Why don't you unload the horses and I will see if anyone is still awake? With a house this big one would think that there are at least some servants that will hear us."  
  
The elves nodded and turned back to their horses, followed after a second by Seobryn who was still clutching his letter to his chest.  
  
Aragorn smiled slightly after the nervous young man, turned back to the ornately carved door and knocked. While he was still studying the carvings that were arranged on the smooth surface of the door, forming the name and occupation of the house's current owner and at the same time expressing his wealth, he found himself surprised by the swiftly opening door.  
  
He blinked a little bit startled since he had at least expected someone to inquire about his name, and raised his eyes to greet the person who had opened the door.  
  
Instead of another face however, he looked directly at a crossbow that was held by an unwavering hand, a crossbow that was aimed exactly at the middle of his forehead.  
  
  
  
  
  
**TBC...**  
  
  
  
  
  
_mellonamin - my friend  
dúnadan - 'Man of the West', ranger  
gonnhirrim - 'Masters of Stone', dwarves  
edain - humans, men (pl.)  
  
  
  
  
_**CLIFFY!!!! Yay Nili! Oh, I kind of forgot to mention that in the A/N, didn't I? *sighs contentedly* Now I feel a lot better... Okay, so: What will happen? Will Aragorn be forced to spend the rest of his days on Arda with a crossbow bolt sticking out of his forehead? How much more trouble will they manage to get into the next chapter? If you want to know, review and I will try to post the next bit on Wednesday. Please? Pretty Please??**  
  
  
  


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**Additional A/N:  
  
**Coreinha - Okay, now you say it, I of course do realiye the evilness of squirrels... *g* Okay, so squirrels are evil, but ... banana pudding? That doesn't sound evil, it sounds disgusting!! Banana pudding, honestly, that sounds like one of the most disgusting things I've ever heard, and I did spend 9 months in England! *runs off to escape the wrath of her English readers*  
HaloGatomon - Well, it'g great you like the slang term, but the problem is that I don't know these things! I didn't know that 'reckon' was American slang, and that makes it bad. I just used it because I read it somewhere and then... *takes deep breath* But now I know and it won't happen again. *gives FF.net evil glare of death* I would have liked to post sooner, but I couldn't! Really, I tried! Sorry...  
Lina - *giggles* I _really_ like 'scuttle like the wind'... LOL, Lina, the Mistress of all Spiderdom? That's a good one... Well, I'm very sorry for the union thing, but really, they are free men and not your slaves, they can so what they want! NO, they are _not_ your slaves, don't look at me like that! *g* *sighs tiredly as Lina kicks Adruran once more* Really, Lina, this way he will be dead before he even had the chance to DO something to them! I mean, come on, they haven't done anyhting bad yet, have they? 'Boycott the Spiders'? Yay, where can I join? I HATE spiders! And, Lina: After reading this review I have once again noticed that you're insane. As Halo and I decided yesterday or something: You are insaner than anyone else we know! *g* You should be proud...  
Firniswin - Well, I'm sorry, but it appears that you even had to wait longer than that! It wasn't _my_ fault though...not even my alter ego's. Great you lke the last chapter; Legolas and Aragorn can be terribly sweet sometimes, can't they? *sniffles too* Thanks for reviewing!  
TrinityTheSheDevil - And just what reason could there possibly be for describing a bathing scene? I mean, it's winter! They can't even go for a swim! *thinks of chapter 9* Not really, anyway... *runs away cackling evilly* A Uruk-Hoppity? Dare I ask what that is? So, I hope I and FF.net didn't strain your patience too much! The next bit's here, finally!  
CrazyLOTRfan - *blushes* Nili Day? That sounds like fun! You would all have to wear T-shirts with my image on them, learn parts of my fics by heart and recite them, uhm ... and the main attraction would be a torture session on the market square! So, what do you think? Think the Prime Minister would approve of that? *shrugs* Probably not, he's a politician after all - they don't know what fun is... Thanks so much for all the nice things you said! And I'll have to write to your PM abou that Holiday... *g*  
Tapetum Lucidum - Dammit, do you think that was why my last three flatmates ran screaming after three days in my company? *g* That would explain a lot, though... About Aragorn opening up: That just might take some time yet. I haven't even planned that far, so it could take some time... The smae goes for Adruran's plans. You will have to be patient, my friend... *cackles evilly* Oh, I'm so mean!  
Aratfeniel - *nods vigorously* Yep, Aragorn can be very sweet. The rest of the time he's as annoying as hell and stubborn, but sometimes he's indeed sweet. Great you liked the chapter, I hope you'll like the rest as well! Thanks for reviewing!  
E - *nods somlemnly* Oh yes. He does. Today I had to talk about what I wrote in my paper, for twenty minutes, in front of the whole class, and do you think he would just let me talk? NO! He kept interrupting and asking questions and laughing secretly (oh, I hate his laugh! *grrr*) and so the bell sounded before I was finished and I have to go through the same hell again next week! Is that fair? No, it isn't!!!! *calms down* Okay, I'm calm now... Why wouldn't you hate him if the were 42? I don't see the difference...  
Aralondwen - *looks at charred review box* Uhm, sure, yes ... thank you ... too kind ... *puts hand over ears* Will you stop that infernal chanting already?! I can't change it if FF.net goes bonkers and lets nobody post and eats your reviews and stuff... *sniffs* Wesss hatesss it, we doesss... So Energizer Bunnies are your mnions, huh? That's scary - real scary... If I don't update nuclear war will commence? That is ... interesting... *returns secret handhake* We're all mad here...  
Arwen-Evenstar - *g* Yes, now that Legolas has his bow the fun can start... Well, Aragorn pain - I don't think it will have as much as AEFAE, but there the favourite pastime was 'Torture-the-ranger', so... But don't worry, we will get enough Aragorn angst. Thanks a lot for the review!  
Xsilicax - *sniffs* I know! That was too nice! But hey, Adruran and his friends killed a man! That is something! *grins insanely* Besides, this chapter has a lot of angst...I promise! And don't worry, there will be Estel owies, even though I think we'll have Legolas owies first... *shudders at thought of spiders* I know! They are horrible! I just hate them, and I hate the way they feel the ground with their ugly hairy legs before they move... *blushes* I do that? That's great! It's so wonderful to know that people like what you write... And the cliffy isn't that bad, is it? *evil grin* No, it can get worse...  
Gwyn - Indeed, what is the world coming to? But: This one is a cliff! As is chapter 8 and 10 and... Oopps, did I say that out loud? Meep! *runs away to escape readers' wrath* Thanks for all the reviews!  
Alexa - *pats her back* Don't worry, now your elfling has a new bow, and they only glued his _spare_ knives to his sheaths, I think had it been his real ones he'd already be on his way over his Misty Mountains to kill the twins. *g* I know Ayn Rand! My friend thinks she's the single best author ever, even though I don't actually agree with that asessment. I kind of like her, but I think she embraces capitalism a little bit too much. Ah well, that's only my opinion. I like Cicero better. *g* Well, and I received two reviews from you! I know, it's very weird, I actually get the review alerts, but they don't show in the Stats or on the review page. I don't get it either. Thanks for the TWO wonderful reviews!  
Jenny - ROTFL! Gollumette! *giggles some more* Okay, that is the funniest expression I have heard in a very long time! Thank you for that mental image!!  
Mouse - *big fat annoying grin* Nope ... no ... not really ... definitely not ... too easy ... *grin widens* You're wrong! *sing-song voice* Sorry! Nope, that's not what happens, not at all - and I hate to say it, but Seobryn is really not important. I even considered killing him off, but I think I wouldn't survive that after Nólad... But thanks for telling me what you thought! It's good to know that I haven't become too predictable... *hugs her* Thanks!  
Imbefaniel - Imbefaniel! *huggles her* You! Nive to see you! I thought you had forgotten all about me! Thanks a lot for reviewing again! Congratulations to the new bow! *g* Don't insult the Valar, again, you hear me?  
Cestari - Yes, Seobryn is getting used to elves, finally. A bit, anyway, and Celylith isn't making it any easier... *whistles innocently* What? They almost die? Whatever gave you that idea? No...*crosses fingers behind her back*...nothing will happen to them. I promise.   
Fliewatuet - Well, well, well, good question actually. Quite a few roads are leading to Lake-town, I think. Hey, but you have forgotten to remember that, yes indeed, this is Nili's story. And Nili is weird and silly and weird and WEIRD and a lot of other things, but she tries not to be too predictable. So you'll have to read on to see what happens! Besides, they left Mirkwood three days after Aduran and friends left Esgaroth. But when they finally meet, it won't be pleasant, I give you that. *g* And don't worry, I got your first review. It just doesn't show on the review page, and please don't ask me why, I'm already angry enough as it is! But thanks a lot for reviewing twice!! *huggles her*  
One15 - Na, wenn das nicht One15 ist?! Das ist doch mal was schoenes! *knuddelt sie* Schoen zu hoeren, dass der Computer wieder geht, von seinem geliebten Internet getrennt zu sein ist wahrlich ein traumatisches Erlebnis... Wow, 6 Seiten in 5 Minuten? Das ist gar nicht mal so schlecht! Schoen, dass es dir wieder gefaellt und vielen Dank fuer die Review! Hat mich wirklich sehr gefreut!  
Nat - *g* Yes, I agree, Legolas and Aragorn really ARE sweet sometimes. Great you liked the chapter! Thanks a lot for the review!  
Miss Understood - *evil grin* Yes indeed, Nazgûl. They protect me from overzealous reviewers! *pats Nazgûls' heads* They are quite sweet actually! Well, to be honest, I have never before glued knives to sheaths, but I once poured a bottle of glue over my brother's head. I was six or something, and the only thing I remember is running away very fast and thinking that he deserved it. *shrugs* Brothers. Yes, and Seobryn's back. *shakes head* You're obsessed, you know that?  
ThE iNsAnE oNe - You let your wargs play with my baby ranger?? *booming voice* How dare you!!! I need him alive and in one piece for chapter 9, who else will save Legolas from... Uh, I didn't say anything! *evil grin* Don't tell me, I'm evil... Oh, speaking of insanities: WHERE ARE YOUR UPDATES? Huh? Where? You'd better update soon or I will do something terrible... *twitches* Good that your ankle's better though. Such things always hurt like hell. *shakes head* Nólad is a silly elf. You can only die once - except if you're Beren, Glorfindel or James Bond. Well, this chapter doesn't have that much action, but ch 8 and 9 do! Promise!  
Angel of Death - *grumbles* And I still thinks it a bloody morbid name! Well, what shall I say: Yes, the ED (Evil Dude, I always call my villains ED before I start giving them names and such, so Cornallar was known as ED quite some time! *g*) is ... uhm, evil? But you'll have to wait a bit to find out what he's up to, I'm afraid... *watches dialogue with Cornallar* So he's taking lessons now? That's ... uhm, interesting, yes...   
Nikara - *g* Yes, I think Legolas will be able to use his bow quite a lot, you might be right there. Thanks for reviewing!  
Firnsarnien - Wow, I open your review and there are four beaming yellow siley faces looking at me! That's great - and yellow...*g* And, sadly, I have to agree: They acnnot avoid trouble for much longer. Poor, poor Legolas... *sighs*  
Tesekian - Ack! I knew it looked - funny, somehow! I have that quite often actually, that I look at a word and know that it just doen't fit there, but I don't know why. *sighs and writes down 'disorganised' a hundred times* Okay, thanks a lot. Glad I could surprise you with the bow! Thanks a lot for the helpful review!  
Helen T - Hmmm, perhaps I put it into the next story as a memory or a flashback or something ... I could do it when ... Okay, I think I have an idea now! We'll see how it works out... *g* Oh yes, someone else than Legolas will definitely notice that Aragorn isn't really well. Just read on!  
Ciria - Well, it's almost as good as a review, so I won't complain. And we celebrate that too, it's called "Konfirmation" - only if you're a protestant, of course. I haven't since I don't believe in the God the church is preaching of and didn't want to do it for the money like so many of my friends. Besides, if I had to chose a church, it'd be Catholic anyway. So I understand perfectly well! I hope you have lots of fun!  
Marbienl - *looking anxiously at Marbienl* Well, I hate to say it, but we will first have some Legolas owies - don't hurt me! *runs away, very fast* Sorry! I think we will have some Estel owies in ch 9 and 10, but no sooner! Sorry! I'm confusing you? *puts hands together, Mr. Burns style* Excellent! *nods solemnly* You're close with Smaug. A lot closer than the rest of the people here, cut still no cigar! *g* Ahm, Gollum moments! They're great and very relaxing! *g* Well, I think AOL is short for American OnLine. I think. I despise it, so don't ask me. *shrugs*  
Alisha - ALISHA!!! *huggles her* Alisha!! *shouts at everybody else* Alisha is back and has reviewed my story! Yess, preciousss, she hasss! *takes deep breath* Sorry, I'm okay ... but very happy! Thanks so lot for reviewing! I really, really missed you and was beginning to fear that this story was stupid or something and you were only too polite to review and tell me... But a month without internet is horrible! Poor you! *blinks* You actually did that? You drew his family tree? Gosh, that takes a ... long time. *mutters* And I thought I was insane... *huggles Alisha* SO glad you're back! Thanks!  
Mimi - Thanks! *beams* Great you like them! Thanks a lot for sending a review!  
HugeTolkienFan - Well, thanks, but the Elvish isn't the real Sindarin, I'm afraid. I started with that dictionary, the Grey Company's, and later found out that they were role-player and therefore invented a lot of the words. This way you can almost say anything because you have the vocabulary, but it's not Sindarin. I'm in the process of getting a better one though, and I already can write and read Tengwar! Don't tell me, I'm mad... So, I hope you enjoy noth of the stories, thank a lot for reviewing!  
Salara - *g* Tja, manch einer ist schnell, der andere laesst seine Fans fuer TAGE warten! Mancher sogar fuer 7 oder 8!! Kann man sich das vorstelllen... *g* Du machst Rollenspiele? Da hatt' ich nie genug Geduld, Zeit und Phantasie fuer, fuerchte ich, obwohl ich gerne sehen wuerde, wie du mit einem Papierschwert einem graessliches Monster den Gar ausmachst... Also Legolas ist Nummer zwei bei dir? Oh, dann ... geh' ich mal besser ... bevor du Kap. 8 liest ... ciao! *rast weg*   
LOTRFaith - *g* Congratulations! It's quite hard to find anything on FF.net - especially if it goes bonkers again... *grrr* Thank you so much for all your kind words, and I'm very glad you like it so far. Thanks!!  
Sr - Yeah well, I could see the reviews, they registered - kind of, since they aren't registered in the Stats when I log on - but you still couldn't see them on the review board. *shrugs* Let's just kill FF.net, shall we? *g* What? Get into trouble - them? Whatever gave you that idea? *innocent look* No, never... *evil grin*  
LOTRMatrixStarwarsFan - *hides face in hands* I know! I know! No cliffy until now - I'm sick! I need a doctor, I'm dying, I just know it... Well, to be perfectly honest with you, I hate spiders. Wirth a passion. I hated writing that bit, really... *g* Sure! If I can help you in any way (that doesn't take too much time, that is! *g*), I will! Just send me and email and we'll see what I can do to help you. Thanks so much for reviewing!  
Nilbrethiliel - Tja, als ich heute im Wald spazieren gehen war, haben sie mich auch in Scharen attackiert. Ich bin schreiend gefluechtet, natuerlich, die einzig wirksame Methode um mit diesen Biestern fertig zu werden... Und die Chaterfahrung war traumatisierend, fuerchte ich. Ich brauche wahrscheinlich ein bisschen, um mich wieder davon zu erholen... *g* Heh! *grabscht sich Celylith zurueckt, der erleichtert aufseufzt* Nix da! Ich habe NIE gesagt, du koenntest meinen Fast-Lieblingselben einfach so klauen! Ciria, Miki und alle anderen mussten 22 Kapitel auf ihre Nólad-Klone warten, also ehrlich, diese Ungeduld...  
  
***glares at FF.net* What a terribly stupid, annoying, horrible thing! Ah well, as long as I got many lovely reviews ... thank you! *huggles reviewers* Thanks!**  
  
  
  
  
  



	8. On Thin Ice

**Disclaimer: **For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.  
  
  
**A/N:  
  
Wow, it seems that there is a growing Seobryn-Celylith-Fanclub out there! Great to see that you like them so much, and Celylith truly IS adorable, I give you that. *huggles resisting elven warrior* Well, and about them being major characters: That depends on how you define 'major', I think. Celylith will be in more scenes than Seobryn, but that's because he's Legolas' tag-along, but I don't know yet if he's going to be in this for the whole time. We'll see... *g* If he's lucky he might escape...  
  
I agree with you on the crossbow-bolt-in-forehead-thing, I guess. Must look quite stupid, especially as King of Gondor... *g*** **But it would be cool, I mean, family tradition and all that... *evil cackle* Okay, that was evil, sorry.  
  
  
Okay, here's the next bit, and to prove to you that I am back to my usual evilness, it's a cliffy!! Yay Nili! *ducks various sharp tools* Jeez, you guys don't like them too much, do you?  
Anyway, we have a discussion with the trigger-happy person at the door, see the introduction of my first two female characters ever (don't worry, they will neither fall in love with Aragorn nor with Legolas), get a few answers and ... *swallows* then ... Legolas ... and ... *sniff* ... I didn' want to ... but ... *g*  
  
Enjoy and review, please!   
  
  
  
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Chapter 8  
  
  
All Aragorn could do was stare stupefied at the weapon that was pointed at him. He hadn't exactly expected a warm welcome at this time of night, but this was a little bit excessive in his opinion.  
  
He slowly raised his hands in a gesture meant to appease the person holding the crossbow and to emphasise that he posed no threat. He tore his eyes away from the dark, rather menacing-looking crossbow and looked at the person who pointed it at him, a tall, middle-aged man in with blonde hair that was beginning to grey at the temples.  
  
The man looked at him calmly, but there was an underlying note of fear and anger in his voice when he spoke.  
"You are not welcome here, as I told your friends before. You should not have come back."  
  
Aragorn blinked perplexedly. He had not the slightest idea what the man was talking about. Before he could voice that fact, however, a twanging sound could be heard, and he quickly took a look behind him before turning back to the man that was still threatening him with the crossbow.  
  
A few steps behind him stood his companions, the elves flanking Seobryn left and right who looked more than a little surprised. Both warriors had notched arrows to their bows and pointed them unwaveringly at the man standing in the doorway.  
  
"Put down the weapon and stand back," Legolas commanded, his voice soft and quiet, but with a steely note that very clearly said that he wouldn't hesitate to shoot if he saw the life of his friend endangered.  
  
The man only shot them a cursory glance and tightened his finger around the trigger of the weapon.  
"You will not tell me what to do in my own house! I will have nothing to do with you or your master, and I told you so! It is you who should lower your weapons and leave! You have three seconds, or I will kill this one."  
  
The fair haired elf's eyes seemed to light up with an angry fire at that, and he pulled the string of his bow a little tauter, an icy certainty emanating from his body.  
"Then I will kill you. You would be dead before your bolt hit him."  
  
The blonde man snorted and turned slightly to look at them, without shifting the weapon however.  
"Who do you think you are? There is no way you will be fast enough to fire before his body hits the ground. Do you think you're an elf or what?"  
  
He opened his mouth to say more, but closed it again when he looked a little closer. His eyes wandered over the two elven warriors, from where they stood lightly atop the snow upwards to their pointed ears and fair faces.  
  
"Oh," he said faintly, beginning to lower the crossbow. The man's eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he first recognised Seobryn and then the blonde elf who had spoken earlier. "Your Highness!" he finally exclaimed, his face paling rapidly when he realised that he had threatened the son of the woodland king.  
  
He quickly put down the crossbow and returned it to a small metal hook on his belt.  
"I beg your pardon, Prince Legolas, I did not recognise you."  
  
"So I see," Legolas replied with a wry grin, returning his weapon to his quiver and motioning for Celylith to lower his bow as well. "You were expecting someone else, Master Human?"  
  
The man shrugged lightly, trying to hide his anxiety.  
"I did, in a way."  
  
Aragorn slowly lowered his hands and shot the man in the doorway a curious look.   
"Not a close friend of yours, I presume?"  
  
The other gave a little smile.  
"You can never be too careful in these dangerous times, can you? Besides, I didn't expect any of you today, and certainly not you, Prince Legolas."  
  
The elven prince looked at the man questioningly.  
"You have me at a disadvantage I fear, Master Human. You know my name, yet I do not know yours."  
  
The man nodded his head, giving a small bow.  
"Of course, forgive me, Your Highness. We have never been formally introduced, I think. I am Owaeran, master of this house and the guild master of the trader's guild in this town."  
  
Legolas nodded his head regally, every inch the Prince of Mirkwood now.  
"Greetings, Master Owaeran. My father holds you in the highest esteem and bade me give you his thanks and greetings. We have come to make sure your apprentice reaches you on time."  
  
The blonde man nodded politely.  
"Thank you, my lord. I have already met young Seobryn there, but your other companions are unknown to me."  
  
The elf smiled and gave his friends a small grin.  
"Then let me introduce them to you, Master Human. This," he made a graceful gesture in Celylith's direction who gave a small bow, still eyeing Owaeran somewhat warily, "is Lord Celylith, son of Celythramir, a captain of the king's guard. And my other companion," he nodded at Aragorn who inclined his head to the other man ironically, "is Strider, a Ranger of the North and friend to Lord Elrond of Rivendell."  
  
Owaeran returned the bows in kind.  
"I am most pleased to meet you. Please forgive me my actions from earlier, I did not expect my new apprentice this late at night."  
  
Seobryn turned scarlet at that.  
"Forgive me, sir, I meant no disrespect. The guards were reluctant to let us pass…"  
  
Owaeran waved his hand dismissively, smiling at the young man.  
"There's no need to apologise, lad. And the guardsmen are indeed nervous. Strange things have happened of late."  
  
"Father? Who is it? Is it Uncle Gwemyr?"  
  
The small voice caused the man to turn, and the attention focused on the slim figure of a girl who had appeared behind her father. She had apparently climbed out of bed when she had heard the raised voices, judging by the robe she wore over her nightshirt and the bare feet.  
  
She took one look at the assembly in front of the door.  
"Definitely not Uncle Gwemyr," she mumbled under her breath.  
  
Legolas studied the girl curiously. He wasn't very good at estimating human age, but he was sure that she wasn't older than sixteen or seventeen. She had her father's blonde hair and large blue-green eyes that were eyeing them suspiciously now.  
  
"Go back inside, Seveawen," her father said, giving her a stern look. "You know you're not supposed to be out of bed at this hour. You may greet our guests tomorrow."  
  
The girl looked at her father unwillingly, but relented with a sigh. She shot the four strangers a last look before giving them a small curtsy, smiling at them with an ironic sparkle in her eyes.  
"Gentlemen."  
  
She turned and disappeared into the dark house, leaving the males alone in the cold night air.  
  
Owaeran looked after her for a second before turning back to his guests, shaking his head lightly.   
"That girl will be the death of me yet." He seemed to notice that the four of them were still standing in front of his house, crowding the narrow catwalk. "But please, do come in. I will send someone over to the stable so that your horse will get taken care of."  
  
Aragorn smiled and nodded, eager to escape the chilling breeze.  
"Gladly, Master Owaeran. We don't want to keep your house up all night."  
  
"Oh, you are not," Owaeran assured them, motioning to a servant who had materialised apparently out of nowhere to look after the horses and take them to the stables. "I would have waited up anyway; perhaps he is coming home today after all…"  
  
The older men interrupted himself and took a deep breath.  
"But this unpleasant business can wait until tomorrow. I'm sure you have many questions which I will gladly answer tomorrow, but tonight it's far too late for ill tidings. I would not have such noble guests stand in the cold night for any longer than necessary."  
  
The next minutes went by with a flurry of activity. Servants appeared and took their bags, helped them out of their cloaks and offered mugs of steaming grog to thaw frozen fingers and warm the guests. When they stated politely that they would very much like to retire to their rooms, Owaeran nodded friendly and wished them a Good night, and they were led upstairs by a servant with a small lamp.  
  
"See?" Celylith whispered, just audible to Aragorn and Legolas. "I told you they would be much more obliging when they knew who you were."  
  
"Right," Aragorn agreed, a teasing twinkle barely visible in his eyes in the dark hallway. "We are lucky indeed to be in the company of the noble Prince of Mirkwood…"  
  
"Oh, be quiet, Estel. I will have to convince Owaeran not to tell anyone else though. It would be very nice indeed if people treated me like everyone else for a change," Legolas retorted good-naturedly and politely dismissed the man who had shown them to the part of the house where the guest rooms were located. Seobryn had been shown to his room in another part of the building, for he was no guest, but an employee of Owaeran now.  
  
He looked at his companions, suddenly turning serious again.  
"Something is wrong here. The house is filled with fear and pain and anger, it lies so thick in the air that you can almost reach out and grasp it. They are afraid of something."  
  
"Or someone," Celylith nodded. "Perhaps that 'Master' he talked about earlier? And who is coming home tonight?"  
  
"Maybe that uncle the girl spoke of," Legolas shrugged. "I have no idea. But it is something I will ask our host tomorrow morning. I would very much like to know why he wanted to shoot Strider."  
  
"He didn't want to shoot me," Aragorn protested. "He mistook me for someone else, that is all. But I believe that he would have shot that person, yes."  
  
"Exactly," the elven prince agreed, a stubborn glint in his silver-blue eyes. "And he very nearly killed you because he believed you to be that someone else. And I want to know why."  
  
Aragorn smiled and shortly put his hand on Legolas' shoulder. His friend could bear a grudge for quite some time, especially if someone had tried to harm one of his friends.  
  
"Nothing happened, my friend," he smiled at his friend and took a step closer to his room, suppressing a yawn. He was indeed quite tired. "I do not think there is danger threatening us in this house."  
  
"No, not in this house," Legolas agreed. "But there is something hostile in this town, Aragorn. It is like a shadow that is drawing closer, staying just out of the range of my senses. Something is amiss. Be wary, both of you. We may be safe here, but we are not safe in this town."  
  
The other two nodded solemnly as they separated, each of them retiring to the room they had been shown.  
  
Just before he fell asleep, Aragorn had to admit that he agreed with his friend. There was something wrong here, seriously wrong. And he had the sinking feeling that, once again, trouble had just found them.  
  
  
  
  
The next morning dawned bright and early, the blue sky shining onto the equally shining surface of the Long Lake. The freshly fallen snow added an almost surreal touch to the scenery, for it was a very curious sight indeed to see white snow covering the surface of the unfrozen middle of the lake.  
  
Or so it appeared, Aragorn thought, looking out of his window, because the snow didn't cover the lake itself but narrow catwalks and boats that were almost completely covered by the shining substance.  
  
Closer to the town a sheet of ice covered the water, probably because the settlement lay a lot closer to the shores now than of old. Lake-town itself lay in a calm bay formed by a rock outcropping, and so the waters were freezing now in the cold winter air. The young ranger shook his head. This was one of the oddest things he had ever seen, he decided. It was very odd indeed to live on a lake in houses built on long stilts, he thought, watching the citizens attending to their business below his window.  
  
He was torn out of his reverie by the sound of a soft knock on the door.   
"You may enter, Legolas!" he called, not even bothering to turn around.  
  
A second later the door opened, and he could hear the amused voice of his elven friend.  
"How did you know it was me, _mellonamin_? Good morning, by the way."  
  
Aragorn turned and smiled at his elven friend, crossing over to his bed and taking up his weaponbelt and fastening it around his waist.  
  
"There are a multitude of reasons, Master Elf," he replied with mock seriousness, eyes twinkling with mischief, "Do you want to hear them?"  
  
Legolas leaned against a beautifully carved wall and grinned at the man, raising a mocking eyebrow.  
"Oh? Then please, do astound me with your wisdom and intellect, Master Human."  
  
"I gladly will, good sir," Aragorn replied seriously and wondered, not for the first time, what anyone who didn't know them would think about them. He or she would probably come to the conclusion that they were insane rather quickly, he admitted a little ruefully.  
  
He assumed the pose typical for his father when he was about to deliver a lengthy lecture.  
  
"First, my prince," he began, pacing up and down the room as if trying to formulate very deep, complicated thoughts, "It is rather early, and since we are guests in this house, I would assume that they won't come to wake us at this hour. This is a human household, not an elven one; here guests are allowed to sleep longer if they wish to."   
  
He narrowly avoided a smack Legolas had aimed at his head and continued. "Second, I couldn't hear anyone walking up to the door, which, considering my humble hearing, had to mean that either a ranger or an elf was the one knocking. And since I doubt that there are any rangers this far east – in fact, it would very much surprise me – I reasoned that it had to be an elf."  
  
"How very perceptive of you, Lord Aragorn," Legolas teased, suppressing the building laughter in his chest. Sometimes it became apparent that Aragorn spent far too much time with his elven brothers.  
  
The young ranger stopped his pacing for a second to flash him a grin, nodding his head.  
  
"Indeed it is, thank you, my lord," he stated seriously, lifting a finger to emphasise his following point. "But, dear Master Elf, there is a thing that tipped the scales: Who," here he injected a small, dramatic pause, "who else but you insists on constantly jerking me out of my sleep? Whose only aim in life seems to be to annoy me? Who delights in mothering me to no end? You see, revered Prince Legolas, I knew the answer to these questions and therefore knew exactly who was the one knocking at that door."  
  
He closed with a triumphant expression on his face and looked smugly at his elven friend who just looked at him as if he had lost the last bit of his sanity.  
  
"That is the stupidest reasoning I have ever heard, and I do attend the council sessions from time to time," Legolas snorted. "And I do not mother you."  
  
"Yes you do," Aragorn retorted laughing. "Do not even think of denying that you came here to ask whether I slept well!"  
  
"Did you?" Legolas asked, looking at his friend closely.  
  
A flicker of an emotion flashed over the man's face, but before Legolas could discern whether it was guilt or annoyance or something else entirely, it was gone.  
  
"Yes," Aragorn replied, looking him in the eye. "I slept well."  
  
A multitude of possible answers blossomed in Legolas mind, ranging from calling his friend a pathetic liar to asking him for how long exactly that had been, one or two hours, but the consequences of these replies would probably be quite painful for him judging by the warning glare Aragorn shot him, and so he contented himself with dubiously raising an elegant eyebrow.  
  
"Is that so?" he asked softly.  
  
Aragorn scowled at him, but before the human could say something he would probably have regretted later, a servant popped his head inside the room, smiling at both of them.  
  
"Good morning, sirs! Nice bright day it is, isn't it? The Master asks if you would like to join the Mistress and him for breakfast?"  
  
The young ranger gave his friend a last dark look before turning to the other man.  
"Yes," he said, returning the smile, "Thank you. We will be downstairs in a minute."  
  
The servant nodded and quietly disappeared down the wooden staircase that was located just to the left of Aragorn's room.  
  
He turned back to see his elven friend look at him in concern.  
  
"I am worried about you, Aragorn," Legolas said quietly. "Your body sorely needs the rest you have been denying it."  
  
"_I_ have been doing no such thing!" Aragorn exclaimed. "I cannot help it, and that is the problem! Why do you persist on constantly reminding me of my weaknesses?"  
  
He whirled around, stalking back to the window. He was already sorry for snapping at his friend, but the lack of sleep made him grumpy and irritable. He just didn't want to add to Legolas' own worries, especially now that they all felt that something was amiss here, couldn't that stubborn elf see that?  
  
A second later he felt a strong hand on his shoulder and turned, looking into the apologetic eyes of his elven friend.  
  
"I am sorry, my friend," Legolas said softly. "I did not mean to press you, and I know…"  
  
"It's alright, Legolas," Aragorn interrupted him, smiling ruefully. "I am the one who should be sorry. I did not mean to snap at you."  
  
The elven prince nodded in acceptance, but tightened his grip on the man's shoulder.  
"And I don't want to hear that ever again."  
  
Aragorn's eyebrows shot up.  
"Pardon me?"  
  
"'Tis not a weakness, Aragorn. The strongest warriors, elves and men alike, warriors many years older than you are now, are haunted by such dreams, and many after things less painful or traumatic than the ones you have endured. No-one thinks of you less than before because of this. It is not a weakness, and it can even be turned into a strength if you overcome it. Do not ever say something like that again."  
  
The young ranger was apparently not prepared to go into the last part of what his friend had told him and simple nodded his head.  
"Thank you," he said quietly, looking at the solemn face of his elven friend.  
  
Before Legolas could reply, Celylith appeared in the door, and all three of them made their way downstairs, Aragorn for his part very glad that he had escaped that particular conversation.  
  
A servant girl showed them to the dining room, a large, sunlit room on the ground floor of the large house. Owaeran and a lady that was apparently his wife were already present, as was his daughter whom they had already seen earlier and Seobryn, who looked as if he had got over the initial nervousness now.  
  
During the polite bows and greetings Aragorn decided that the girl had definitely inherited her mother's eyes since the woman's had the same blue-green colour, although she apparently had her father's blonde hair since her mother's was of a dark brown colour streaked with grey now due to her advanced age.  
  
"Allow me introduce my wife, Misien," Owaeran said, giving his wife a fond look. "And you have already met my daughter Seveawen, I believe," he added with a side glace at the blonde girl who was eyeing them curiously now, her suspicions obviously gone.  
  
The trader turned to his family.  
"And this, my dears, are," he caught the minute headshake from Legolas and reacted quickly, "Lord Legolas and Lord Celylith from Mirkwood, and Strider, a Ranger of the North. They kindly escorted the lad here."  
  
"Thank you very much," Misien said, sitting down again at the table that was laden with the most delicious food, drink and fresh fruit and motioning her guests to do the same. "We appreciate that very much. Travelling can be very dangerous this time of year, can it not?"  
  
"Indeed it can, my lady," Celylith answered, giving his companions a wry look. "The woods are dangerous of late; one never knows what one will encounter."  
  
"Alas for these dark times," Owaeran sighed, shaking his head. "The goblins are beginning to multiply again, as do the trolls and other foul things. It is very bad for business."  
  
"I can imagine," Aragorn nodded, and soon the men and elves were deep in conversation about trade routes, prices and markets.  
  
A bit later, while Legolas, Celylith and Owaeran were discussing the possibilities of introducing a new brand of wine to the court of King Thranduil, Aragorn let his eyes wander over the table and noticed with some amusement that Seobryn didn't seem so engrossed in their discussion.  
  
'No,' he thought, hiding an amused smile, 'It rather seems that he has found a more … promising thing to give his attention.'  
  
Indeed, Seobryn was rather preoccupied, namely with more or less staring openly at the daughter of the house with wide, admiring brown eyes. If the girl did notice the young man's fascination with her face, she didn't show it, being immersed in a earnest conversation with her mother.  
  
After half an hour Misien and her daughter rose from the table, nodding at her husband and her guests.  
  
"I think you have yet more business to discuss, my love," she said to her husband, a playful twinkle in her beautiful eyes. "We will no longer disturb you, and Seveawen and I have other duties to attend to."  
  
Owaeran smiled at his wife.  
"You never disturb me, you know that. And you are welcome to stay, since I know how fascinated you are with trading."  
  
His wife looked mildly alarmed.  
"No thank you, dear husband. I think the kitchens require my urgent attention."  
  
With a small curtsy she placed a firm hand on her daughters back and left the room, still smiling at her husband, and for a fleet moment Aragorn wondered if his parents would have been anything like this had they lived. He was very happy with his elven family, and he had never had the feeling that they treated him differently because he was human and not really of their blood, but sometimes he just couldn't help but wonder what his human parents had been like.  
  
Seobryn, who had been looking after the two of them for quite a bit longer than necessary, noticed the amused look Estel gave him and returned his attention to the conversation at hand, furiously combating a deep red blush that was threatening to colour his face the shade of a sunburnt beetroot.   
  
After a few more minutes of polite conversation, Legolas waited until the last servant that had been clearing the table had left the room and turned to their host.  
  
"We must really discuss this further, Master Owaeran, but now I have another question for you. I hope you'll excuse my bluntness, but why did you threaten to kill my friend?"  
  
The man sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair.  
"I promised you some answers, my lord, and you shall have them."  
  
He got up and slowly walked over to a window that overlooked a small garden. Aragorn thought idly that he didn't even want to imagine what it had to cost to create a garden here.  
  
"As you had probably already imagined, I didn't try to kill Mr. Strider here," he nodded politely at Aragorn who returned the gesture, feeling that this was rather reassuring. "I mistook him for someone else. Yesterday evening a few men came here, and one of them looked a bit like him. When you knocked at the door, I was rather anxious and didn't take enough time to look at the one standing in the door properly."  
  
"And who were these men you were so willing to shoot at the slightest provocation?" the elven prince asked, slight anger colouring his voice.  
  
Owaeran sat down again with a heavy sigh, suddenly looking old and tired.  
"It is a long story."  
  
Celylith smiled thinly at the man.  
"We have time."  
  
The trader looked up, a small smile on his lips.  
"Yes, I guess you do." He leaned back in his chair, looking at the four interested faces in front of him. "I have a brother."  
  
"The Uncle Gwemyr your daughter spoke of?" Legolas asked.  
  
Owaeran smiled fondly, obviously lost in some memory of things long past.   
"Yes, that is him. He is my younger brother, quite a bit younger actually. Twelve years, to be precise. He is a partner in this company, but he has never been particularly interested in trading. Or," he grimaced slightly, "in any other kind of serious work."  
  
Aragorn nodded in understanding. He knew this kind of men. He had seen quite a lot of them in various human towns and settlements, most of the time in bars and inns. The kind of men who drank a lot of ale, flirted with the barmaids and generally talked far too much.  
  
"I always thought he would calm down once he got older," the older man continued and studied his hands, refusing to look up. "But now he's over thirty years of age and still…"  
  
He fell silent for a minute before he looked at the elves and the men, anger and fear mixing in his eyes.  
"He left the house a week ago and didn't come back."  
  
"I know what you think," Owaeran continued before one of them could say a word, "He is a grown man and makes his own decisions. That is true, my brother leads his own life, even if I do not appreciate of the way he spends his time. But one thing I do know: He would never just leave like that. Even despite our differences we have always been on good terms with each other, and he would inform me if he had decided to travel somewhere. Besides, he adores Seveawen. He would never leave without saying good-bye to his niece."  
  
Seobryn, Aragorn noted somewhat dryly, looked very much as if he could relate to that sentiment.  
  
Celylith's voice broke the heavy silence.  
"And the men that visited you yesterday, they were friends of his?"  
  
"No," Owaeran shook his head, his forehead wrinkling in confusion. "No, I am rather sure that they were no friends of his. He has a lot of friends I do not exactly approve of, but they are not dangerous company. They are rakes like him, have no real work like him and spend most of their time escaping one jealous husband or another – like he does, I'm ashamed to admit, but they are not like those people who came here yesterday."  
  
Aragorn winced inwardly at the words. The older man had apparently lost all illusions about his younger brother a long time ago.  
  
Aloud he asked,  
  
"Then what kind of people were they?"  
  
"Hired scum," Owaeran answered curtly, grimacing in disgust. "They said they worked for one of my … let's say competitors, shall we?"  
  
Legolas raised a questioning eyebrow, and the man elaborated,   
  
"He and I, we don't get along very well, I'm afraid. To say that there is no brotherly love between us would be an understatement. Be that as it may, those people just came into my house and started asking me questions. Where my brother was, when I expected him back, where they could find his friends, these kinds of things. After five minutes I lost my patience and threw them out, which they took rather ungracefully."  
  
"Hence the crossbow," Aragorn concluded quietly.  
  
"Hence the crossbow," Owaeran nodded. He looked at all of them in turn, all reservation gone and replaced by naked fear. "All I can tell you is that my … competitor is rather ruthless. I don't think that he is responsible for Gwemyr's disappearance, for he wouldn't need to ask where he was if he was, wouldn't you agree?" He stopped for a second. "But since their little visit I have really begun to worry. My brother has never truly grown up, I'm afraid, and I fear that he might have got into some kind of trouble he will be unable to escape on his own." He gave them a rueful smile. "He is very good at that."  
  
"I know exactly what you mean," Legolas mumbled, giving his human friend a small, evil grin which the other ignored completely.  
  
"But there is more," Celylith stated, eyeing the elderly man closely.  
  
Owaeran sighed deeply and nodded slowly.  
"Aye, there is, Master Elf. Two days ago they fished a body out of the lake."  
  
Aragorn shivered slightly. He had a very bad feeling about this.  
"But it was not your brother?"  
  
The trader shrugged helplessly.  
"I don't think so."  
  
"You don't think so?" Seobryn asked, for the first time opening his mouth. "Forgive me, Master, but how can you just 'not think so'?"  
  
The blonde man looked at his apprentice gravely.  
"I think so because the stature wasn't quite right. There wasn't enough left of his face for his own mother to recognise. The icy water preserved the corpse quite well. He – whoever he may have been – was beaten before someone slit his throat. Badly so."  
  
Legolas closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The things humans were prepared to do to each other never ceased to shock him. For the most insignificant of reasons they were willing to hurt and kill each other in a fashion that would never happen in an elven society.  
  
'I told you so,' a small voice inside his head whispered. 'You're in trouble, trouble, trouble…'  
  
For a second the fair haired elf wondered if he should perhaps beat his head against the table to silence it, before he abandoned that idea as ineffective and returned his attention to the conversation at hand.  
  
"So your brother is gone, you don't know where or why or with whom, and one day after that body is found your 'friend's' employees show up here and start asking questions," Aragorn summed up.  
  
"Yes," the older man said quietly, staring at his hands again. After a heartbeat or two, he looked at them earnestly, quiet despair shining in his eyes. "I love my brother with all my heart, but I also know of his faults. He is a no-good womaniser, I'll give you that, but he is no killer. He showed all kinds of weapons always the same kind of disinterest he showed everything else requiring hard work. I fear that he got involved in something too big for him to handle."  
  
"We would help you," Legolas offered seriously. "But there seem to be no clues. You don't know his friends?"  
  
"No, only a few by their first names, and Lake-town is a big town nowadays. I don't even know where to start looking."  
  
"At the inns," Seobryn said seriously. He swallowed nervously when four heads turned into his direction, but continued bravely, "If your brother is that fond of … ale, sir, I think it would be a good start to look for him there."  
  
Aragorn smiled at the young man, nodding his head.  
"A good idea, Seobryn," he said. "We can visit a few of the places your brother is known frequent and ask a few questions. We might even get some answers you, as his older, disapproving brother might not receive."  
  
"You would do that?" Owaeran asked, a sudden hopeful sparkle in his eyes.  
  
"We would," Legolas confirmed. "We all owe Seobryn a great debt, and the least we can do is try and help his employer, don't you think?"  
  
The boy started to protest, but fell silent quickly when he noticed the serious looks the elves and the ranger gave him.  
  
"Then, my lords," the tradesman nodded at the three friends, "I will count myself twice blessed that the king asked me to come and have a talk with the lad. May the Valar reward you for your kindness."  
  
Aragorn smiled and nodded at the older man, thinking that he didn't need a reward. How did they always manage to get themselves into these potentially dangerous situations? If the most powerful of the Ainur simply made sure they got out of this alive and unscathed, he would be more than happy.  
  
  
  
  
"Elbereth, I must be insane," Legolas grumbled for the umpteenth time, resisting the urge to throw back his hood and strangle his human friend. Tempting as that idea was, they had agreed that Celylith and he wore cloaks with hoods to hide their faces and most importantly their ears. The fact that they were elves might attract even more attention to them than the fact that they were strangers asking curious questions did anyway.  
  
Next to him Aragorn shifted slightly on a wobbly wooden chair, taking another mouthful of the rather decent ale and looking around the small tavern they had chosen to visit.  
  
"Calm down, Legolas," he advised his friend and reached out to push the two earthen tankards into the direction of his elven friends. "Here, drink something, people are beginning to stare."  
  
"I prefer wine," Celylith announced unhappily, eyeing the mug as if it might grow teeth and bite him if he tried to lift it.  
  
"Besides, it's the third inn already. I have never drunken so much ale on one evening," Legolas added, but grabbed his tankard and took a mouthful of the bitter liquid.  
  
"Oh, come on," Aragorn teased, grinning broadly. "Where is that famed elven stamina of yours? I am but a man and have drunk just as much as you have."  
  
Legolas didn't answer while Celylith mumbled a rather interesting Quenya curse under his breath, a curse the ranger was sure he had never heard before. Trying to commit the saying to memory, he laughed lightly.  
  
"Don't look so dreary," he said, ignoring the dark glares that threatened to burn holes into his thick winter cloak. "We are just a few travellers having a drink after a long journey."  
  
Oh, the journey had been quite hard indeed, Legolas mused dryly. A few hours ago they had left Owaeran's house and made their way into the direction of the western part of the town, after having – with some difficulty – persuaded Seobryn to stay behind. He was far from inexperienced, they knew that much, but he was leaving tomorrow morning with his employer to visit several of Owaeran's warehouses and shops, and it would probably not make a good impression if the boy was too hung-over to set one foot in front of the other.  
Besides, the prospect of spending the evening in the company of the trader and his family did seem quite appalling to the young man, the elf thought with a inward chuckle.  
  
So they had gone alone after having been provided with a list of inns and names of possible friends, and had already ticked off two of the places Owaeran had named. No-one knew where Gwemyr was, and no-one could remember the names of his friends, although a drunk young man of Aragorn's age could helpfully provide the fact that the name of one of them began with a 'D'.  
  
An hour later, the elven prince was more than a little bit annoyed. The tavern was hot, it was loud and the people frequenting it had apparently never heard of the beneficial properties of soap. The barmaids could remember Gwemyr because he had always been most generous with his money, but they didn't know where any of his friends lived either. The last time he had been here had been approximately eight days ago, and he had spent most of the time talking secretly with his friends in one of the corners.  
  
"Interesting," Celylith commented after the girl had left their table again to serve a profusely gesticulating man at the bar, "So perhaps he has just left after all."  
  
"Just like that?" Aragorn asked, frowning dubiously. "If he did, then because the circumstances didn't permit him to inform his family, and if that is the case, then there is more to this than meets the eye."  
  
"You might be right there, my friend," Legolas nodded and leaned forward slightly, his silver-blue eyes boring into his friend's. "But now we will leave, or I swear I will take my knives and kill the first person that laughs."  
  
Under heavy protestations Legolas and Celylith had left their quivers behind and only kept their knives, or in Celylith's case his knife and his sword. Aragorn had argued that a bow would do them little good in the maze of narrow catwalks and channels, and so the two elves had relented, rather unwillingly one might add.  
  
"He is right, Strider," Celylith nodded as he pushed back his chair and prepared to rise. "We will learn nothing more here. We can try another inn or two before calling it a night and returning to Owaeran's house."  
  
The dark haired human looked up unwillingly, but sighed and shrugged when he saw the steely glint in his companions' eyes.  
"Very well then. If this little bit of ale is already too much for you…"  
  
Ignoring the two elves' fiery stares, he got to his feet and slowly moved into the direction of the bar to pay for their drinks, moving through the crowded room with an ease that surprised Legolas. The people seemed to chose to move out of his friend's way, even though Strider's countenance was neither threatening nor grim. He just seemed to command a certain sort of respect, even now despite his young age. The elven prince smiled slightly. Well, even if Aragorn himself was uncertain about his heritage and destiny, one thing Legolas knew for sure: Should Aragorn ever decide to claim the throne of his ancestors and should be made king, he would be one of the greatest, perhaps even the greatest human king Arda had ever seen.  
  
Oblivious to his companion's thoughts, Aragorn quickly made his way across the room and paid for their drinks, carefully putting away his money. The last thing he needed was a pickpocket that saw himself tempted to relieve him of his coins.  
  
Just when he turned back to walk over to his friends in a corner, he stopped and stiffened slightly. There it was again, the feeling that someone was watching him. He moved in a small circle, keen eyes searching the room and trying to find the one spying on them, but once again he could see no-one that looked familiar.  
Ignoring the tiny cold shiver that run down his spine, he slowly walked back to his companions, still trying to find the hidden watcher. But no-one seemed overly interested in him or the two cloaked elves, something that made him growl slightly in frustration. He had come to trust in his senses, and right now they were telling him that he was being watched by unfriendly eyes.  
  
When he reached the table, Legolas and Celylith got up and prepared to leave the inn.  
"Aragorn," Legolas whispered softly as they were making their way outside, side stepping men and women of various degrees of drunkenness, "There is someone…"  
  
"I know," the ranger replied. "But I couldn't see anything, could you?"  
  
The two elves soundlessly shook their heads as the three stepped out of the small building, the laughter and chatter slowly abating behind them.  
  
"No," Legolas said out loud when they walked down the bridge leading to the town centre, "I couldn't see anyone I have seen before."  
  
"But it's hard," Celylith added, frowning in concentration. "There were so many new faces and besides," he stopped and shot Aragorn a nasty look, laughter in his deep blue eyes, "all humans look alike."  
  
Aragorn glared at the grinning elf and was just about to respond something not very courteous, when the three of them rounded a corner only to find themselves face to face with a rather large group of humans.  
  
The elves and the ranger automatically took a step backwards, hands instinctively going to their weapons. A second both groups eyed each other silently, before a dark haired human stepped out of into the open, a huge wooden club nonchalantly dangling from his hand.  
  
"Well, well, well," he said in a friendly tone of voice, a tone of voice that was belied by the dangerous glint in his eyes. "What have we got here? Three strangers, all alone – and very curious strangers they are, wouldn't you agree?"  
  
His men laughed and jeered at that, and Aragorn used that moment to shoot his elven companions a questioning look, only to be met by almost imperceptible shrugs.   
'Great,' he thought, tightening his hold on his sword, 'Just what we needed.'  
  
"What do you want?" he asked, his voice calm and commanding.  
  
"A few answers, for starters," the man replied, taking a few steps closer to them. "Why are you interested in Gwemyr? And you don't know anything about the man they fished out of the lake, by chance?"  
  
"No," Aragorn replied, staring at him coldly. "And now you would be well advised to step aside and let us pass."  
  
The other man eyed him curiously for a moment before starting to laugh heartily.  
"You can't be serious! There are seventeen of us and only three of you! You will tell us what we want to know, one way or the other!"  
  
With that he stepped closer and reached out to grab Legolas' arm, but the elven prince effortlessly dodged the hand and drew back, but couldn't stop his hood from slipping off his head, revealing his pointed ears and long blonde hair.  
  
"An elf!" the men murmured, backing away a little and eyeing the fair haired elf fearfully.  
  
"Well, I don't believe it!" the leader said, staring at the elven prince who looked back with eyes dark with anger, "A cursed elf! What are you up to? This matter doesn't concern you!" He turned back to the other men. "Get them!"  
  
The elves and the ranger had barely enough time to draw their weapons before the wave of human bodies slammed into them, threatening to separate them from each other.  
  
Aragorn ducked under a descending club and stepped to the side, bringing the hilt of his sword down on his attacker's head. While he was fending off two other attackers that were obviously trying to back him into a corner, he mused darkly that he was fighting humans far too often lately. What had happened to the times when all he had to worry about were goblins, orcs, wolves and the sort? It was far easier to fight such foul things, since he really didn't want to kill his own kind unless he had absolutely no other choice.  
  
His friends seemed to be in the same predicament, and when he was breathlessly moving to the side to escape a dagger that had been aimed at his sword arm, he realised that they needed to leave, now, or they would be in real trouble very soon.  
  
"Legolas!" he called, throwing one of his attackers into another that was approaching him from the right, _"Lye anta kel! Sí!"_  
  
Legolas who was very busy dancing out of the reach of two men that were trying to trap him against a building to his right, nodded silently and caught his friends' eyes.  
  
_"Sanka!"_ he called loudly, slamming his elbow into a grinning face to his right and turning on his heel.  
  
On the prince's command all three of them turned and ran back the way they had come, but while Celylith ran past the inn whose customers were now beginning to emerge, having been alarmed by the shout and sounds of fighting, Legolas and Aragorn disappeared down smaller gangways to the right. For a moment the men seemed too surprised to move, but they quickly recovered and gave chase.  
  
Five minutes later, Aragorn stopped, trying desperately to calm his racing heart to listen to any sounds of pursuit. When he couldn't hear anything, he tried to orientate himself, but, he decided grimly, looking around, that was one of Lake-town's faults: It all looked the same. The same dark houses, the same channels, the same catwalks. And, this being not a very respectable part of said town, there were no public buildings or anything of that sort one would recognise.  
  
Looking back over his shoulder, he cautiously walked on, his left hand on the wall of a warehouse and his right gripping his sword. Who in Elbereth's name were these people? And why would they think they had anything to do with the dead man?   
  
Praying fervently that the men wouldn't catch one of his friends, he reached a corner, but when he just wanted to round it, a hand shot out and slammed him against the wall. Aragorn's breath was knocked out of him, but he still raised his weapon and was more than willing to skewer the person pressing him against the wall if he didn't let go of him soon when he heard a soft voice.  
  
"Aragorn?"  
  
He looked up to see the face of his elven friend hover in front of his, concern and shock in his silver-blue eyes.  
  
"Legolas? Valar, you almost gave me a heart attack!"  
  
"And I almost killed you!" Legolas exclaimed and lowered the knife he had been holding close to his friend's neck. "Why didn't you say something?"  
  
"I was a little preoccupied trying to breathe after you mistook me for a hay sack!" the ranger retorted, rubbing his chest and returning his balde to its sheath. "Do you know where Celylith…"  
  
He stopped in mid-sentence, his eyes growing wide when he heard the sound of many booted feet drawing closer to their position. Legolas hesitated for only a second.  
  
"Come," he said and pulled his friend back the way he had come, only to stop when he heard more men coming that way as well. "We … have a problem," he said quietly.  
  
Aragorn snorted.  
"Really? Do you have an idea how to get out of here? I think they'll be here in half a minute."  
  
Legolas looked around them, before locking eyes with the human, eyes gleaming.  
"I do."  
  
The elven prince dragged Aragorn to the edge of the pier, pointing at the frozen surface and the docks on the other side of the channel.  
"We walk."  
  
Aragorn looked at the elf with wide eyes, debating whether or not he had taken a prolonged leave of his senses.  
"Walk? Fifty feet? Legolas, you cannot be serious! I … I'm not an elf, I cannot simply…"  
  
"Yes, you can," Legolas replied, hopping down onto the frozen surface of the lake. The sounds of running feet drew closer, and he stretched out a hand. "Trust me, we can make it. If we are fast enough we can be on the other side in a few seconds! The ice will be thick enough." He looked at the human who had been stubbornly shaking his head no the entire time. "_Mellonamin_, there is no other way. They will be here any second now, we have to leave!"  
  
Aragorn looked at the prince's outstretched hand, scowling at him. Legolas was right, of course. They couldn't escape, and he really didn't want to find out what the men wanted…  
Sighing, he gingerly lowered himself down onto the ice, wincing when he imagined hearing small, cracking sounds and at the same time questioning his own sanity.  
  
Right then, the decision was made for him when the men stormed onto the small square in front of the pier, and Legolas grabbed his hand and pulled him into the direction of the piers.  
"Come!"  
  
Together they fled over the silvery surface of the channel, Legolas steadying his human friend as best as he could when he threatened to lose his footing on the slippery surface. The whole matter grew even more complicated when their pursuers let loose a shower of arrows and crossbow bolts, determined not to let their prey get away this easily.  
  
With hindsight, when he thought about it in the future, Aragorn recognised that they had almost made it when it happened. They had almost reached the other side when he stumbled and almost fell, the only thing preventing just that being Legolas' arm that held him upright. They stopped for a mere second so the young ranger could regain his footing when two crossbow bolts missed them by inches and burrowed themselves in the ice just in front of them.  
  
Immediately, a cracking, horrible sound could be heard, and Aragorn could have sworn that he could see the cracks running through the ice, nearing their position from the spot where the bolts had hit as the strain finally became too much and the ice began to give way. Legolas jerked him upright, his eyes widening when he saw what was happening. Before Aragorn had even time to comprehend what was going on, he felt himself grabbed tightly by the arms and pulled closer to his friend. He looked up in confusion, meeting his friend's amazingly calm gaze.  
  
"Forgive me," Legolas whispered, and, taking a hold on the human's shoulders and upper arms, he threw him forwards into the direction of the pier with all his might.  
  
Aragorn hit the wooden construction hard, for a second paralysed by the abrupt collision, before he came to his senses and quickly pulled himself up to roll onto the catwalk, panting for breath.  
  
He felt his heart go as cold as his surroundings when he realised what had happened.  
"No! Legolas!!" he screamed, whirling around, back to the channel.  
  
Legolas smiled when he heard Aragorn's scream; so the human hadn't hurt himself too badly in the fall.  
'Good,' he thought to himself, 'And that is all that matters.'  
  
The last thing he saw before the ice splintered and went to pieces under his weight was Aragorn's shocked, white face that stared at him in horror as he disappeared from view and plunged into the icy water of the Long Lake.  
  
  
  
  
  
**TBC...**  
  
  
  
  
  
_mellonamin - my friend  
Lye anta kel! Sí - We need to leave! Now!  
Sanka - Split (up)!  
  
  
  
  
_***giggles nervously* Uhm, you're not angry, are you? I mean, come on, nothing bad happened and ... Help!! *flees angry Legolas fans*  
Well, I do hope you're not too cross, and that goes for Seobryn too. This won't turn into a romance, never fear, I could _never_ write that, but he's about eighteen to twenty years old, so come on, that's only normal. Plus he deserved a little break.  
Okay, so please tell me what you think! Meaning: Review!** **Yes! Please! We needsss reviewsss, we doess.... Pleasssseeee.... *g*  
  
  
  
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**Additional A/N:  
  
**Nilbrethiliel - Nein. *strenger Blick* Pfoten weg von meinem Elben. Nix spielen, nix zwischen irgendwelche Hosen haengen... Ich weiss noch nicht, was ich mit Rashwe anstelle, vielleicht wird Aragorn es zu Pferdehackfleisch verarbeiten? Mal gucken... *g* Tja, der arme kleine Ranger hat wirklich kein einfaches Leben, mit uns irren FF writern, die an jeder Ecke lauern... Tja, und wenn du dachtest, dass das letzte Kapitel ein cliffy war, was ist dann dieses? Mhahahaha!!  
Aratfeniel - Hey! I resent that! I do not write 'insane comments'! They are rather sane and make sense and all!! Really, shame on you... *hands Aratfeniel a cookie* Not bad! Yes, it is for defence, kind of, anyway... Good guess! Thanks for reviewing!  
Mouse - Uhm, well ... you know ... I didn't want to write the cliffy ... 'twas my alter ego again ... Well, I hope you like this cliffy though! I am very proud of it, in fact... It's very evil! I love evil! *g*  
LOTRFaith - *evil look at FF.net* We hates it, we doesssss... I mean, honestly, it cannot be so hard! Well, yes, it probably is, but STILL!!! It always does that on the day I have just posted or want to post... An evil law of nature. Hmm, about Seobryn's name... _I_ pronounce it Se-o-bryn, with a short 'e'. It doesn't really matter, though, I think. Thanks for not nagging me, it doesn't help anyway. Most of the time, that is... *g*  
CrazyLOTRfan - *watches her bounce* Well, this is another cliffy! As is chapter 10! Yay Nili! Nili loves cliffies, more than is good for her, btw... LOL, the crossbow bolt as a fashion statement? That's a new approach... No, and don't worry, I would not shoot Estel, not through the forehead, anyway. Too serious and life-threatening. Oh, and about the holiday: And there would be free classes, 'Torture 101' at every college in the country. What do you think? *g*  
Gwyn - No, chapter 9 doesn't have a cliffy, chapter 10 does, though...that good enough? Oh, and yes, things are definitely heating up now. And I don't think they will calm down again in the near future... *huggles her* Thanks for reviewing!  
Nikara - *innocent expression* Foreshadowing? Who? Me? Never... LOL, Celylith, the 'spider elf'? You could probably say that... Thank you so much for all your reviews and I hope this was soon enough!  
Arwen-Evenstar - You don't like cliffies, then? Well, then my only advise would be to 'go away, and never come back'. *g* Sorry, Gollum again, but really, I don't think you will enjoy the next chappies that much, then...   
Imbefaniel - *sighs sadly* I know, school work is horrible, I have my exams in a month! Ack!! Panic panic panic!!! Thanks for reviewing again! I'm glad the Valar have forgiven you!  
Halo - *pokes Halo* She does that a lot, doesn't she? Oh, come on, girl, you know that he will be alright! Do you really think I would let him get hit in the forehead!? No way! It would spoil his great looks! And you know, it's not _him_ you should be worrying about... *evil grin* Ah, being evil is so much fun...  
Leggylover03 - I have to admit, I don't get it why you call yourself that if you're an Estel fan... Camouflage, perhaps? Well, whatever... The dreams, yes... It will take him some time until he talks about them, I haven't planned it any time soon. Perhaps chapter 12 or 13, we'll see. And about what it is that haunts him: You know, last story, there were these rather nasty people and all that... Thanks for reviewing! I love reviews, did I mention that?  
One15 - One! *knuddelt sie* Na, schoen dich auch mal wieder zu sehen! *g* Ja, ich stelle mir Legolas' Gesicht auch immer so ... leicht sprachlos vor... Ah" Ein erster Rahswe-Fan! Na ja, das Pferd ist ja auch irgednwie cool, das muss man ihm lassen... *g* Keine Angst, eine Traumloesung ist weit von meinen Vorstellungen (die mich wahrscheinlich in die Psychiatrie bringen koennten *g*) entfernt! So einfach kommen sie mir nicht davon!  
XsilicaX - *innocently* What Gollum-like creature? I don't see one... Well, yes, I agree, Estel SHOULD talk about his dreams, but he is being an idiot? Or typical male, take your pick. Uhm, actually I hadn't planned going into his history more than I already have, but I'll see what I can do! *evil grin* Yes, I did say that Legolas owies came first, and to that I hold. (Gosh, I have to stop quoting LOTR the whole time *g*) Just read on, dear friend! *evil grin*  
NaughtyNat - *sniff* I was crying when I wrote the Legolas-Sea-bit, I really was. Don't tell anyone, it would ruin my reputation... *g* Great you liked it, thanks a lot for the review!  
Miss Understood - *defensively* Well, I was very young, okay? About six or seven or something! If I did it now, I wouldn't live to see another day... *stares at her wide-eyed* You gotta calm down! Seobryn isn't going anywhere, calm down....that's it, breathe.... Evil people inside the building? Uhm, no? The guy that was killed was Seobryn's boss? Uhm, no? I am sorry, but that's not it. Would be far too easy, I want to be able to confuse you for another six or seven chapters... Well, Seobryn's not gonna die, I think, but he won't be much in ch 8, I'm afraid. Sorry. Oh, and I hope you're not jealous, btw. Sorry!  
Grumpy - *blushes* Thanks. I love writing this story, it's so much fun! *sheepishly* Yeah, I kinda noticed that too. Yelling seldom gets you anywhere with computers ... mindless violence does, though!!! *g* Thanks for the reivew!  
E - Of course! *hits herself 'cause she's so slow on the uptake* 42 is SPECIAL!! *g* You're right, might look quite stupid, so I didn't let iot happen. Yay Aragorn! 'Trivial'? You think putting a crossbow bolt in Aragorn's head is trivial? Well, you're even worse than I am... *g* Death by earplugs. Right. I told them, they ran away screaming. Problem solved. *g*  
ThE iNsAnE oNe - *stares wide-eyed at monster-review* Wow, that is ... big! Enormous! (NO, don't get any wrong ideas, I didn't mean it THAT way!) Thanks a lot! *huggles Miki* Uhm, I had almost forgotten about that song! What is so very special about it? Except that it amuses you and Legolas? *sighs* You really need to get them under control! I didn't give you Nólad so that he is taken hostage all the time! I mean, really, I will have to take him back if you don't do something! *giggles* Evil female man child, right you are, Elrohir... Ah, but the last chappie wasn't a cliffy! *points at this one* THIS is one!! Mhahahahaha!! *runs off*  
Helen T - Ha, so you like cliffies? Finally, a sensible person! Well, because you like them so much, here's another one! *cackles evilly* Thanks a lot for the review! *points at date* Only 3 more days!!  
Reginabean - Yeah well, I have been threatening FF.net so many times now, somehow I think it's immune to it! Glad to see you again, just take care you don't fall off a cliff again this time... *g*  
Cestari - Naughty naughty! *wiggles finger* You're not supposed to be online and review my story? Awww, sweet.... *huggles Cestari* Thanks! I promise I will read that story of yours as soon as I have a little bit of time on my hands, really! But exams are less than a month away and I really don't have time at the moment...  
Alexa - No, cliffies aren't mean, cliffies are FUN! *g* Yeah, I love dropping little mysterious hints, I really do... Well, and now it's here, the dreaded chapter 8! UhmIgottagobye! *runs off to escape Alexa's wrath* Bye!  
Firnsarnien - Oh, so many nice smileys! Thanks! Oh, yes, you're another one of those militant Legolas fans, aren't you? Well, then I think I should better be going now... Bye! *runs off* I hope you have a nice vacation, Legolas is having much fun too, believe me...Ack! Help!! *g*  
Zam - Well, I think FF.net ate your review last time. Same thing happened to Alilacia, must have been because of FF.net's problems... Sorry, I never got it... *starts crying* I missed a review from Zam! That's tragig, that's what it is! But, you have to admit that your orc horde is anything but ordinary! They are definitely ... odd, let's say odd, shall we... Well, you and Cellyith would get along just fine then, he can be quite evil, too... Okay, the next chapter is here, don't worry, but, you know ... Legolas ... I didn't want to do it, really, but my alter ego made me ... Uhm, I gotta go! *runs off*  
Firniswin - *g* Calm donw, the next bit is here, don't worry.... Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in... Great you like is so much, thanks for reviewing!  
Jenny - A WHOLE LOT OF TROUBLE!!!! Mhahahahahahaha!! *regains her composure* Sorry, that happens sometimes... Well, you'll have to read on to see what exactly they got themselves into, but let me say one thing: It's evil! Mahahaha!  
Alisha - *huggles her* You're still here! Great! I didn't make you run away? Throw yourself to the ground? Thank God... *g* Uhm, I really do use old English? Well, that's a relief, since I try not to write too modern. It's just like not using the 'O' word - I think 'Okay' really spoils the whole thing, besides, Tolkien woul rotate in his grave if he heard it. *g* Yes, Celylith has a personality of his own, namely being evil and annoying! But I love him! *huggles him* Sorry for the spider thing, I really hate those things myself. I'm an arachnophobic idiot if there ever was one - I know perfectly well that it's unreasonable, but I can't help myself. Thanks so much for reviewing, and give my regards to your guinea pig!  
Ciria - Sound like a great party, then! No problem at all, thanks a lot for sending me a note nevertheless!  
LOTRMatrixStarwarsFan - Yeah, I'm back to normal! Evilness, cliffies and owies all over - I feel so much better now! Well, about the survey thingy: Just tell me what you want me to do and I'll see what I can do!  
Marbienl - You're scary, girl, did I ever tell you that? You eventually guess most of the things that are gouing to happen in one kind or the other, and it's freaky! *giggles* You? Are patient person? Ah ... that's an interesting way of putting it... What are you doing? NO hypnotising my characters! Do you want them to spoil the whole angst-angle? Shame on you!!! *g* You like Rashwe then? Well, it's an interesting horse, I'll give you that... Don't worry, the German bit was perfect (Gut gemacht, meine Dame!), and I'm really sorry, but your idea doesn't - really -happen. More the other way round?  
Elladan - *giggles* This soon enough? I'm very glad you like it so much, thanks a lot for all your reviews! Reviews help a lot!  
Alilacia - Sorry about the last review, FF.net ate Zam's too. I never even saw it. Oh yes, Legolas will definitely needing a lot of the bandages, no doubt there. I'm afriad no insurance company would accept them, don't you think? The risk is just too great... Well, sure you can borrow Legandir. The problem is that he doesn't accept orders easily. Perhaps he'll let you wait a yén or two... *g* Wilwarin's long lost second cousin, huh? That'd be definitely NOT good... Yeah, elves are definitely cocky. That comes with being nearly perfect, I guess. *g* And I absolutely agree with you: We need more clifffies! And because that is so, here's the next one! Mahahahaha! *runs off cackling insanely* Thanks a lot for the looooong review!!  
ManuKu - *g* Schoen, dass dir das gefallen hat... Kam einfach aus dem Nichts zu mir, frag mich nicht warum... Tja, jetzt bekommst du morgen früh Kapitel 7 und 8! Yay Manu! *fieses Grinsen* Tja, so ein Langbogen ist ja auch eine praktische Sache! Ich meine, damit kann man viele verschiedene Dunge tun, sie man mit einem Ranger nie tun koennte... (Ich hafte nicht fuer unanstaendige Gedanken an dieser Stelle! *g*) Danke fuer's reviewen! Hat mich sehr gefreut...  
  
**Thanks so much for all your reviews! They really, really help me to post faster! *huggles reviewers* Even if I repeat myself here: Thanks!!**  
  
  
  
  
  



	9. A Race Against Time

**Disclaimer: **For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.  
  
  
**A/N:  
  
*grins insanely* Death threats! Yay! I LOVE death threats, I think I did mention that before somewhere... *g* You guys are all so sweet! *huggles all who have threatened to feed her to wargs/orcs/trolls/balrogs etc.*  
  
Well, I think you know me better than to believe I would simply let Legolas freeze to death or let him drown! Really! You should know by now that that's not _painful_ enough. So, never fear, a simple frozen lake won't kill our favourite elven prince. *evil grin* And you're right, this IS in fact turning into something of a murder mystery! *g*  
  
There seems to be a problem with Celylith though. I know that he's sweet - I think so myself - but I must really ask you not to kidnap him/put him in your pocket/try to marry him. The poor elf has enough trouble with Legolas and Aragorn already, there's no need to scare him away completely, is there? *g* I _could_ of course kill him off at the end of the story and _then_ I could hand out Celylith-clones, just like I did with Nólad. Well, how does that sounds? *ducks rotten fruit and sharp objects* No? Oh, come on, it sounds like... *has to run off to escape angry Celylith fans*  
  
Come now, you have to be nice to me, and you know why? No, not because I can let Aragorn and Legolas die painful deaths, but because it's my birthday tomorrow! Yay Nili! I'm turning 21 and will finally be treated like an adult - in court, that is. That's not really good, is it? *g*  
  
  
Anyway, here is chapter 9, which, of course, has a lot of Legolas angst, Aragorn angst, Celylith angst and ... well, general angst, I guess. Throw in an ice-covered channel, an elven popsicle and a reckless ranger and serve cold. On ice, of course. *g*  
  
Enjoy and review, please!**  
  
  
  


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Chapter 9  
  
  
His heart seemed to thump impossibly loud in his own ears, drowning out all sounds except the desperate, lingering echo of his cry.  
  
This was not happening, this couldn't be happening!  
  
Stunned the young man shook his head, staring at the spot where his friend had disappeared only seconds ago. The softly rippling water somehow seemed to bring him back to the present, and he rushed forward, stopping just short of falling over the edge of the pier himself.  
  
"Legolas!" Aragorn called desperately, trying to make out the elven prince's figure or at least catch a glimpse of pale golden hair in the water. "Legolas!! Valar, don't do this to me!"  
  
While he was still trying to locate his friend, an arrow whizzed past his head, missing his temple by the fraction of an inch. The young ranger didn't even seem to notice, his eyes fixed on the rippling surface of the lake.  
  
'Why is he not coming up? Where is he? Why is he not coming up??' a panicked voice inside of him screamed, threatening to push him over the edge into a pit of despair and mindless panic.  
  
Another bolt crossed the distance between the obviously rather frustrated men on the other side of the now impassable channel and him, and this time it didn't miss completely but grazed his right upper arm, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Even that didn't seem to fully register in the young human's shock-numbed mind, until two more projectiles embedded themselves in the wooden pole right under his feet.  
  
Aragorn's head shot up with a start, and he wobbly got back to his feet, his eyes still not leaving the surface. Since Legolas had broken through the ice, barely half a minute had gone by, but he should have resurfaces long ago!   
  
The young man's eyes caught on the rippling surface of the channel, and this time he noticed something he had missed until now in his shocked state: The ripples weren't caused by the fact that Legolas had plunged into the icy water, if that had been the case, they should have died down already.  
  
'Elbereth, no!'  
  
Aragorn scrambled backwards when he realised the implications of his discovery, and he shot a quick look at the stars for a rough estimation. He turned to the small catwalk that was disappearing between the warehouses to his left and began to run southwards, neatly dodging two more crossbow bolts that almost burrowed themselves in his side.  
  
Once in the relative safety the towering buildings supplied, he clutched his injured right arm to his chest, for the first time truly realising that he had been hit. He even quickened his pace when he caught sight of the channel again, running so fast that he almost slipped on the ice covered bridges.  
Running parallel to the small canal in whose waters Legolas had disappeared, he shook his head, fervently pleading Ilúvatar and all of the Valar to lend him speed.  
  
The ripples hadn't been caused by Legolas' fall, no, they had been caused by the current that flowed through the Long Lake, due to the two rivers that entered the water and the outflow on its southern side. A current strong enough to carry away an elf numbed by the iciness of the waters, Aragorn thought despairingly, giving an extra burst of speed when he heard the noise he dreaded more than anything else right now: The roaring of the giant waterfalls that marked the southern end of the lake.  
  
They had been in the western part of the town, and during their flight they had apparently got further South than they had realised.  
'A Elbereth, please no,' he thought despairingly as the noise of the falls grew louder.  
  
If he was right, then Legolas was being swiftly carried South, and if he couldn't get to the channel soon and reach him before the town ended, he would be taken over the edge of the waterfalls to fall to his death in the icy waters of the River Running.  
  
  
  
  
The contentment of having got Aragorn to safety was quickly replaced by shock when the cold hit Legolas like the blow of a sledgehammer, numbing his whole being. That was the first perception of course, one closely followed by the pain of a thousand sharp needles that stabbed into his muscles. Unconsciously, the elf gasped, and when he tried to breathe in, all he could find was water, icy cold water that froze his limbs.  
  
Instinctively he tried to get back to the surface, but when he kicked out with his feet and tried to make swimming motions with his arms that were severely hindered by his long, billowing cloak, he felt himself be seized by an invisible hand and dragged away with the water, helpless to stop his movements.  
  
For a moment Legolas was stunned by this, his numbed brain not really capable of understanding why he was moving to the side and not upwards, but this thought was soon drowned out by the desperate, all-consuming need for air. While his body was moving apparently on its own account, being carried off with the current, he tried again to reach the surface, and this time he managed to put enough strength into his movements to propel his frozen body upwards.   
  
However, his momentum was stopped rather harshly when his head smashed against something smooth and solid, the abrupt collision causing stars to appear in his already blurry vision. Stunned, Legolas allowed the water to carry him further away while he tried to understand what that obstacle had been.  
  
A part of him was too far gone to care and urged him to give in to the darkness that was beginning to steal over him, but another part of his brain screamed at him to fight, to try to reach the surface.  
  
''Twas the ice, fool,' it screamed at him, trying to get through to him, 'Fight! You need to break through to the surface! You need air! Fight!!'  
  
He wondered dreamily why he should do that; to him it seemed as if fighting would be rather uncomfortable. The cold was beginning to rob him of reasonable thought, seeping into his very heart and filling him with paralysing ice.   
  
The current threw him into a pole that suddenly appeared out of nowhere, bringing him out of his dream-like state. Suddenly his survival instincts surged to life, and he ignored the pain that stabbed through his side where he had impacted with the wooden stilt and forced his body to obey his commands and try to reach the surface.   
  
Again he hit a smooth surface and cursed inwardly when he realised that once again ice was separating him from the oxygen he so desperately needed, for even though the firstborn could hold their breath for much longer than other races, his had been knocked out of him by his first encounter with the sheet of ice and the pole, and if the growing roaring in his ears and his dimming sight were any indication, then he was reaching the ends of his endurance, fast.  
  
The elven prince tried to loosen his cloak to give him more freedom of movement, but his frozen fingers wouldn't co-operate and he was unable to open the brooch that held the fabric together. He soon found out that fighting the current was not the best of ideas, and so he did his best to just float with the current, preserving as much air and strength as possible.  
  
Both, however, were slowly but surely beginning to run out, and to his surprise he found that the current was growing stronger, pulling his body with it more insistently. With a sudden, sickening realisation he understood what that meant: The falls.  
  
'Oh, dear Elbereth, no.'  
  
Trying to fight off the panic that was beginning to envelop him now, he redoubled his efforts to reach the surface, when the stream suddenly rushed round a bend, slamming the fair haired elf first in the sturdy wooden poles of a large quay and then into a protruding rock the size of a horse.  
  
One he could have tolerated, but two were simply too much. His head connected with the first obstacle and then with the second, and while he felt a blinding pain explode behind his eyes, his surroundings slowly began to fade. The cold disappeared, the need to breathe disappeared, and finally his consciousness decided that it was better off somewhere else, especially in the realm of blissful sleep.  
  
Not being able to fight the descending blackness, Legolas lost consciousness, his last thought being how angry Aragorn would be with him for drowning like this.   
  
  
  
  
Aragorn cursed profusely when yet another large house barred his way, the walls towering like insurmountable obstacles in front of his eyes.  
  
He chose another narrow opening between two houses to his left and picked up speed once more, avoiding passers-by as best as he could. Farther to the South the warehouses and quays seemed to become fewer, and more and more dwellings were beginning to appear. Unfortunately, with the houses also came people, people that seemed to do nothing but get in his way, and in his worry he was not willing to stop and ask them to get out of his way.  
  
While he sprinting down the catwalk, trying to ignore the ever growing roaring of the waterfalls, a detached part of him noted with an amused chuckle that he had left the state of worry already far behind him. The only thing he felt right now was a choking, almost paralysing fear, a fear to lose his best friend that was close to developing into a full-blown panic.  
  
Another stab of guilt seemed to go through his heart. Yes, and if he lost Legolas, it would all be his fault. His elven friend had saved him instead of himself, and if anything happened to the elf because of his human clumsiness, he would never be able to forgive himself.  
  
A sudden image of King Thranduil's white, shocked face appeared in his mind's eye, and he quickly pushed back these feelings and images. Legolas would _not _die, and he would _not _have to tell the King of Mirkwood of his death. He would _not_.  
  
Suddenly, a large quay became visible to his right, and Aragorn changed his course slightly, nearly knocking down two passers-by, but neither noticing the slight impact nor the furious curses behind him.  
  
Gasping for breath, he finally reached the large pier and skidded to a halt, nearly falling to his knees in relief when he saw that the water was in fact ice free. No ice covered the surface, and the reason for this became soon apparent when the young man looked around him and saw two large pipes that led to the channel from one of the nearby buildings. Hot, steaming water poured from their mouths, thus raising the water temperature and preventing it from freezing, a paradox sight since the water a little bit upstream was covered with ice.  
  
In short, the dark water was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen.  
  
He looked around him wildly, trying to figure out how to get his friend out of the water and at the same time praying that he wasn't already too late and Legolas had already been washed away into the direction of the falls.   
  
Aragorn was so focused on that task that he didn't hear someone approach, and so he whirled around when he felt a hand touch his shoulder and had already his sword out and at the other person's neck before he had even looked up.  
  
"Whoa! Easy, lad, easy!" a surprised voice sounded, and Aragorn looked into the red face of a man that had raised his hands to indicate his peaceful intentions. Behind the man there stood two others, watching both of them anxiously.  
  
Without a word the ranger sheathed his weapon again and turned back to the channel. The man looked at his friends for a few seconds before they all stepped closer to the younger man, peering into the water as well.  
  
"You lookin' for something?" the man who had spoken earlier asked, looking intently at the dark waves, his voice slightly slurred.   
  
Aragorn looked up at that, despair brightly shining in his grey eyes.  
"A friend of mine fell in about half a mile upstream, I need to get him out before he gets carried to the falls! Help me, please!"  
  
The three looked at each other and nodded.  
  
"Sure, boy," the man said and nodded at his companions who ran off to reappear a second later with long poles. "You are lucky we are here. We work here, you know," he winked at the younger man, "During the day of course. We get the cargo from the barges onto the pier. Fishing things out of the water is what we do."  
  
Aragorn shortly tore his eyes away form the channel and smiled thinly.  
"Thank you. I…"  
  
"I see something!" one of the other men shouted, and the young ranger whirled round, his eyes fixing on the stream. Really, there was something floating in the stream, something rather big and disconcertingly unmoving… A second later Aragorn saw a glimpse of fair hair that moved softly in the rippling water, and he felt relief so great that it almost drove him to his knees.  
  
"Legolas!" he gasped, looking at the other men imploringly. "That's him! We need to get him out!"  
  
The older man nodded and narrowed his eyes, calculating how to best catch the swiftly approaching being in the channel. All of the sudden, all drunken cheerfulness disappeared from his face.  
"Alright. Lubron, you go to the other end in case he slips through. Quickly!"  
  
The addressed man ran off while the other two stayed with Aragorn, waiting for the right moment to stop the prince with their poles when he floated past. The young ranger just stood next to the two men, staring with wide eyes at the quickly approaching body of his elven friend.  
'Eru,' he noticed suddenly with a gasp, 'He's face-down! Oh, please, no…'  
  
"Quickly!" he shouted, very close to a panic again. How much time had passed since Legolas had broken in? Five, six, seven minutes? "We've got to get him out! _Now__!"_  
  
"Hold your horses, lad," the older man advised, his eyes fixed on the body that was a mere ten yards away now. "We won't do him any good if we miss him and he takes a free ride off the waterfalls."  
  
'Easy for you to say,' Aragorn fumed inwardly but forced himself to calm down. 'It's not your friend in there!'  
  
Suddenly, Legolas' unmoving figure was within reach of the poles, and the two men skilfully hooked the wooden ends under the prince's body, stopping his forward motion. The current was stronger than expected though, and the men had trouble keeping the elf from floating away again.  
  
"Go, boy," the older man grunted, straining to hold the pole in place, "Go, get him! We're losing him!"  
  
Aragorn didn't have to be told twice, already kneeling at the very edge of the quay, trying to get a hold of his friend's billowing cloak. He could have screamed with frustration when the fabric stubbornly floated just out of his reach. The young ranger heard another grunt, and looked up to see the men's grip slipping.  
  
Whirling back to the channel in horror, he watched as if in slow motion how his friend's body once again began to move, down the channel and into the direction of the roaring waterfalls.  
  
"We're losing him!" the younger of the two men shouted alarmed. "He's slipping through!"  
  
A wave of pure anger swept through the dark haired ranger.  
  
'Oh no, you don't!' he thought wildly. There was no way he was losing his friend like this!  
  
"Hold my legs," he said to no-one in particular, and without looking behind him to see if the men obeyed his command, he dove forwards, throwing himself at the motionless body of the fair haired elf that was slowly floating out of his reach.  
  
  
  
  
'Humans,' Celylith thought to himself as he was swiftly making his way to the southern part of the city, 'I don't know if I feel anger or pity for them. Honestly, it took one of them over five seconds to draw his sword! That's nothing less than pathetic.'  
  
But then again, he wasn't really complaining. If that human had been a tiny bit more competent, he would probably be dead now, or at least missing several important body parts. After about five minutes of running away – something for which he would get Legolas sometime later, he vowed, he _hated _running away - the humans had caught up with him, another rather shameful fact.  
  
Yes, they had known the terrain a lot better than he did, and he had stumbled into a dead-end street, but they still shouldn't have got him, something that bothered his elven pride immensely.  
  
But, he thought as he stopped for a second and then chose the catwalk to his left, they had caught up with him, and that was it. Most of them wouldn't do much for the next few weeks, and one or two mightn't to anything at all ever again. That was really too bad for them, but they had forced him to fight them, not the other way round.  
  
Besides, every human should know better than to attack an elf at the rate of six to one, the silver haired elf decided irritated. Especially a Silvan elf, he thought rather smugly. The humans hadn't been a real problem for him, only one or two had even known how to handle a sword. And even their skill wasn't exactly what Celylith expected for example from the warriors of his guard, most of them would have lost to a decades old elfling armed with a stick.  
  
After he had made sure that the men would bother neither him nor his friends again, he had returned to the place where they had separated and tried to reconstruct the way Aragorn and Legolas had chosen. After a few minutes of getting lost he had reached a large pier, and from then on it had been just a matter of following the arrows that stuck out of the houses and the trail Aragorn had left behind on the snow covered bridges.  
  
Thinking back to that pier, Celylith picked up his pace. If that channel hadn't looked as if someone or something had broken through the ice, he would cut off his hair, get himself a scimitar and go to live with the orcs.  
  
'It's not Legolas,' he tried to encourage himself, running down the catwalk, following the trail of cursing, indignant people the young ranger had apparently rather rudely shoved out of his way. 'You just couldn't see his tracks, that's all. He's a wood-elf, after all, you wouldn't be able to see his tracks in a hurry…'  
  
He ran a bit quicker, nimbly avoiding smashing into humans that barred his way, his worry only increasing. If it had not been Legolas who had fallen into the channel, why had Estel been in such a hurry? If it had not been Legolas, then why hadn't they waited for him or tried to locate him? If it had not been Legolas, why…  
  
A feeling of despair and failure swept through his entire being. He hadn't been there for his friend. He hadn't been there for his prince! O the Valar, what would the king say if…  
  
Celylith shuddered and quickened his pace. He would _not_ think of his liege now, that would only serve to transform him into a quivering, shaking, angst-ridden mass on the ground if he wasn't careful. He would not return to Thranduil's Halls bearing the news of Legolas' death, he would rather die himself than deliver the message that would surely break his king's heart.  
  
The silver haired elf rounded a corner, almost colliding with two rather drunk-looking men and ran on, when suddenly his sharp elven eyes spied a small commotion on a pier to his right. There were three men with long poles that were apparently rather concentrated on something in the water, and about ten onlookers that stood a little further back from the quay's edge, peering at the channel curiously.  
  
And there was another figure on his knees on the wooden structure, a person with dark, unruly hair that was just … Elbereth, what was he doing?  
  
"Strider!" he called and dashed over to the small group, recklessly pushing his way through the men that separated him from the ranger.  
  
The man didn't seem to hear him, for he threw himself into the water, almost falling in completely hadn't Celylith and a man next to him grabbed his legs just in time. The elf was just about to ask the young dark haired man if he had completely lost his mind when he shifted his focus from the human to the thing he had grabbed with both hands and felt his heart clench in his chest when he realised what it was: The still figure of his prince, floating face-down in the icy waters of the Long Lake.  
  
"Legolas!" he gasped, too shocked to form a more coherent thought than that. Quickly he shifted his grip from Aragorn's legs to his shoulders, and together with the man that had grabbed the young _dúnadan_ earlier they pulled the two wet beings back on shore.  
  
Aragorn gasped for breath, clutching Legolas to his chest. After a second he realised that he had in fact not drowned – very curious indeed – and that there was someone talking to him rapidly in Elvish.  
  
"Estel, what happened? Elbereth, what happened??"  
  
'A good question,' Aragorn thought, his torso and face numbed by the cold water. Idly he wondered how much worse it had to be for Legolas; he had been in the water only seconds, after all…  
  
"Legolas!"   
  
With a start he let go of the prince's body and carefully rolled him on his back. He couldn't quite hide a gasp, and heard the same sound next to him when Celylith saw his friend.  
  
Legolas was white as a wraith, and there was blood trickling slowly down the side of his face, colouring his blonde hair a horrible crimson. What worried Aragorn more was the fact that his lips had turned the colour of blueberries – a part of his brain mused detachedly that he had never known that a being's lips could turn that particular colour – and … that he was not breathing?  
  
Trying to fight down his panic, he reached out and placed a trembling hand under his friend's chin, almost shuddering at how cold the skin felt. He almost sobbed with relief when he felt a very slow, very faint heart beat, but it was growing weaker by the second.  
  
Ignoring Celylith's increasingly frantic questions, he tried to remember what his father had taught him about near-drowning victims. He pushed all his emotions back, locking them into a dark corner of his mind, and forced himself to view Legolas as a patient, not a friend. If he kept worrying like he did now, he wouldn't be able to help him and the elf would die because of his inability to act like a healer should.  
  
All these thoughts flittered through his mind in a split second, and he turned to Celylith, eyes huge and dark in his pale face, not even noticing that he had reverted to the tongue of his childhood as well.  
"Put your hand under the back of his neck and lift it. Push his forehead back and pull his jaw downwards. We need to restart his breathing. Now!"  
  
Forcefully suppressing the trembles that coursed through his body, the elf did as he was told, carefully bending Legolas' head backwards and at the same time praying that Aragorn knew what he was doing.  
  
The young man was busy opening his friend's shirt, having decided that a little bit more cold would hardly prove fatal after what the blonde elf had already been through. This way he would be able to see what he was doing, there was no need to accidentally break a few of Legolas' ribs or do damage much worse if he could help it.  
  
Frantically feeling for the end of the breastbone, he placed his interlaced hands about three inches below that point and pressed down, trying to get Legolas to expel the water he had breathed in.  
  
First, nothing happened, and Aragorn felt his control slipping. This wasn't just somebody he didn't know, somebody who happened to be his patient, this was a friend, his friend. His best friend that lay in front of him dying, dying because of him.  
  
"Please, Legolas, don't do this to me," he whispered in Elvish, tears beginning to cloud his vision. He pressed down harder, unwilling to give up. "Do not leave me like this! You cannot die, not for me! Not for me…"  
  
Suddenly, Legolas' body seemed to convulse, and he took a deep shuddering breath, followed by a hacking cough when his lungs expelled the fluid that had involuntarily been breathed in. Celylith needn't be told what to do, and he quickly turned his prince's body over to the side, helping him to cough up the water.  
  
Aragorn sat back on his haunches, listening to the glorious sound of Legolas' ragged breathing, feeling more exhausted and happy than he could remember ever having been. Grinning from one ear to the other, he looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Well done, boy," the man who had helped him said, smiling down at him. "I thought he was dead for sure. Them elves are tough, aren't they?"  
  
"Yes," Aragorn grinned, feeling giddy with relief. Noticing the way Legolas' breathing slowed some, he shrugged out of his damp cloak, ignoring the biting chill of the wind. "Yes, they are, Ilúvatar be praised."  
  
He quickly wrapped the overcoat around the elf's shivering shoulders, pulling him close and gently brushing back wet blonde strands of hair that were plastered to his forehead.  
  
"E-Es-tel?" Legolas asked weakly, eyes still closed.  
  
"Shhh," The young ranger soothed, lifting his friend slightly to wrap Celylith's cloak around him as well. "We got you out, everything will be fine."  
  
Slowly the elven prince's eyes opened, and he stared at the blurry face of his human friend that smiled down at him.  
"What…" he asked hoarsely, frowning in confusion. "C-Celylith, w-where…"  
  
"I am here, my lord," Celylith grasped one of Legolas' cold hands, sounding relieved beyond measure, "I am fine. I am just fine now."  
  
Unsteadily Legolas' eyes wandered to the right, fixing on the silver haired elf's face. After a second he closed his eyes again, teeth chattering loudly now.  
"I'm so c-cold…"  
  
Aragorn's heart clenched in pain when he heard the weak voice of his elven friend, and inwardly he vowed to find every single one of the men that had ambushed them and throw _them_ into the lake. Then they could see how _they_ liked freezing to death while drowning at the same time.  
  
"I know, my friend," he whispered, pulling the limp body of his friend a little bit closer against his chest, sharing his body heat. "This is all my fault. We will get you home soon."  
  
Legolas seemed to relax at that, his white face drawn with cold and pain. The young man looked at Celylith, who nodded and rose to his feet.   
  
"Wait here," he instructed the two of them while inwardly musing that neither one would in the near future. Legolas couldn't and you would need half a dozen men to make Aragorn leave his side. "I will see if I can find someone who can point us back to Owaeran's house. We cannot afford to get lost on the way."  
  
He pushed through the crowd and approached a man that stood in the door of one of the nearby houses, hoping that he as a resident would be able to show them the way.  
  
"Here." The soft voice made Aragorn look up from where he had been murmuring senseless, comforting words to his semi-conscious friend in the grey tongue, and he saw the helpful man crouched next to him, holding up his own cloak. "He looks as if he needs it." When he saw that Aragorn was about to protest, he added, "I'll be fine, lad. That was a brave thing you did earlier. Stupid, but brave nonetheless."  
  
Aragorn accepted the cloak gratefully and merely shrugged while he wrapped it around the elven prince.  
  
"He is my friend," he said simply, smiling slightly when he saw the man nod in understanding. "Thank you, sir. Thank you for helping us."  
  
The other man got to his feet, swaying slightly.  
"Ah, 'twas nothing, lad," he assured the young ranger. "The name's Tellyn, by the way. Come and visit us when you have a moment to spare."  
  
"I will," the younger man assured, tightening his grip on Legolas. "We will. Thank you, Tellyn."  
  
Tellyn only nodded and disappeared down a narrow bridge, supporting one of his two companions.  
  
Aragorn turned his attention back to his friend, pulling the cloaks a bit tighter around the blonde elf's shivering body. They needed to get Legolas back into the warm house, and quickly. Shooting Celylith an impatient glare who was apparently receiving lengthy instructions, judging by the way the man he was talking to gesticulated, he tried to suppress the tremors that shook his own body. It was cold, very cold, and his human body was beginning to complain bitterly.  
  
"Why did you do that, stubborn elf?" he questioned softly, taking one of Legolas' hands that somehow stuck out from the bundle of cloths that were wrapped around the elf, "Why did you push me? I couldn't bear the thought of you dying just because of me! Never do that again, do you hear me, _mellonamin_? Not for me, please..."  
  
He closed his eyes to prevent embarrassing tears from spilling, and this way he was rather startled by the soft voice of his friend whom he had thought unconscious.  
  
"Why … not?"  
  
Aragorn looked down at the fair haired elf who had with some difficulty opened his eyes, teeth chattering loudly. He pressed his other hand against the side of Legolas' face in an attempt to warm him and gave the hand he held a squeeze.  
  
"Hush, Legolas, you need rest. Sleep. We will get you somewhere warm in a second."  
  
The prince however was not so easily deterred and gave a minute shake of his head.  
"W-Why not, Aragorn?" he asked again, the Elvish words so slurred that the young ranger could hardly understand him. "If … if not f-for you, t-then for whom?" He tried to smile at his human friend and failed miserably due to the immense cold he felt, and added tiredly, "You … would do … s-same…"  
  
Aragorn looked at him seriously, nodding his head slightly.  
"Aye," he said softly, "I would."   
  
Noting the way Legolas' eyes were beginning to drift shut again, he added,  
  
"Sleep, Legolas. When you wake up you'll be in a nice warm bed with a hot fire going in the fireplace. I promise."  
  
The fair haired elf's eyes shut to his obvious dissatisfaction and he drifted off into a deep sleep. Celylith chose just this moment to return, and he looked down on the two friends with worry in his blue eyes. Both Aragorn and Legolas were shivering now, and the elf was rather sure that he would have to carry both of them if they didn't get out of the cold soon.   
  
For a moment he asked himself what it had to be like to inform both Lord Elrond and King Thranduil of their children's deaths, and decided with a rather unelvish inward shriek of terror that that would be worse than to face the Dark Lord himself. After all, he doubted that Sauron would give you the_ look_ while taking you apart piece by piece.  
  
He crouched down next to Strider and gave him the most encouraging smile he could muster.  
  
"Come, Estel," he said, trying to pull the limp body of their friend out of his arms, "Let me carry him, I know the way now." He saw the rebellious flicker in the silver eyes before the human had even opened his mouth. "No, Estel, listen to me. You are cold and wet yourself. Let me carry him, it will be swifter. Legolas needs to get to shelter now, just think of what would happen if you dropped him."  
  
Aragorn glared a second or two at him, but relented rather quickly. The young man knew that Celylith was stronger than he was, and he wasn't as perturbed by the cold either.  
  
He nodded, and Celylith quickly gathered his unconscious friend in his arms, turning his face towards his own body so that it would be sheltered from the icy wind that had begun to blow a few minutes ago. Carefully he began to make his way down the narrow bridge to his left, once in a while making sure that Strider was really following.  
  
He wouldn't allow another one of his friends to get out of his sight today.  
  
  
  
  
The arrival at Owaeran's house was nothing less than spectacular. They were standing in the hall, wet and frozen to the bone, Celylith cradling Legolas in his arms, while servants flocked around them, asking about a thousand questions at once. Alerted by the commotion, Seobryn appeared, took one look at the man and the two elves, turned as white as a sheet and ran off to find his employer.  
  
Complete chaos descended when Owaeran and Seobryn reappeared, both staring at the beings in the hallway and trying to push their way through the other humans that crowded the space.  
  
All in all, after a few second Aragorn was ready to scream. This was not what his friend needed, and every single of his instincts as a healer told him to get him somewhere warm and quiet. Just when he was seriously considering breaking the ancient laws of hospitality and dismembering one or two of the chattering servants, a loud yell could be heard, and his head swivelled to the left, along with every other head in the hall.  
  
On top of the stairs stood Misien, glaring darkly at her husband and the assembled men in the hallway.  
  
"Have you completely lost your minds?" she asked, her tone of voice suggesting that she already knew the answer to that question. "The poor boy," she nodded in Legolas' direction, "needs help and not this commotion. Return to your rooms, now! I will send for you if we need help. Go!"  
  
The servants ducked their heads and shuffled off, and Aragorn noticed out of the corner of his eyes that Seobryn and Owaeran looked very much as though they wanted to do the same. He motioned Celylith to carry their friend up to his room and slowly followed him, stopping in front of Misien.   
  
"Thank you," he said, bowing slightly.   
  
"Oh, it was nothing, Mr. Strider," the elderly woman assured him, smiling at him. She shot a concerned look into the direction in which the two elves had just disappeared. "He fell into the lake, didn't he? Will he be alright? Can I do anything to help you? Should we send for a healer?"  
  
Aragorn shook his head, refraining himself from running after his elven friends.  
"No, my lady, thank you. I have some healing skills, and the firstborn are strong. He will be alright."  
  
Behind him, Owaeran made a move as if to ask a question, but was stopped by a firm shake of his wife's head.  
  
"Go to him, then," the woman said, pulling her robe tighter around herself. "I will send someone to light a fire and bring you some extra blankets."  
  
The young ranger bowed again and nodded.  
"Thank you."  
  
He quickly disappeared down the corridor, having to stifle a smile when he heard Misien scold her husband for his "foolish, idiotic, irresponsible" actions. His smile quickly faded though when he entered Legolas' room and laid eyes on the pale, shivering form of his friend.  
The elf looked young … far, far younger than he was, with his eyes tightly closed and deep, dark circlers under his eyes.  
  
Aragorn quickly rummaged through his elven friend's packs and pulled out dry clothes and a few bandages, silently thanking Legolas that he had brought so many of them. The young man turned back to the bed, and while Celylith changed the other elf into dry clothes, he carefully examined the injuries Legolas has sustained. Pressing down lightly on the blossoming bruises that covered the side of his friend's chest, he once again reined in his temper. He just hoped that the men responsible for this didn't cross his way in the near future; he wouldn't want to be held responsible for his actions then.  
  
He made sure that no ribs had been broken and carefully spread a salve over the darkening marks, inwardly thanking that his father in his wisdom had left behind a full set of healing utensils before he had left. While he cleaned the cut on Legolas' temple, a servant crept into the room, looking very much as though he expected to be shouted at again, lit a fire and handed Celylith several heavy blankets which they piled on the pale form on the bed after Aragorn had bound his head wound.  
  
Sighing deeply, Aragorn stepped back.  
"He will be fine," he said, sinking down on an armchair next to the bedside, "He will sleep for a few hours now, but had he not been an elf, he would probably be dead now. He might have a light concussion from the blow to his head, but I doubt it. He has a lot of bruises and his ribs are badly bruised as well, but he will be just fine, thank the Valar."  
  
He looked up when Celylith crouched down in front of him, looking at him seriously.  
  
"Thank you, Aragorn," the elf said solemnly. "Thank you for saving his life, and Lord Elrond be praised that he trained you as well as he did."   
  
Before the young ranger could reply to this, he found himself pressed back into the chair by a strong slender hand.   
"Stay here. I will get you some dry clothes and then I will have a look at your arm. Don't think I have missed it."  
  
Aragorn didn't protest, for now that he was warm and relaxing, he found that his arm hurt fiercely where the crossbow bolt had grazed him. Celylith quickly returned with some of his clothes and proceeded with binding his wound, scolding him lightly for not getting out of the projectile's way fast enough. The ranger quickly retorted that he wasn't an elf, and that even they could get hit by arrows once in a while, and soon they were teasing each other mercilessly, both of them enjoying the light heartedness of the moment.  
  
When Aragorn was just enumerating all the times his brothers had got hit by arrow, spears, crossbow bolts and the like and Celylith was protesting that they were Noldor and therefore didn't count, a small knock sounded on the door, and both of them looked up to see Seobryn stand in the door, looking rather worried.  
  
"Is he alright?" the young man asked, carefully taking a step into the direction of the bed.  
  
Aragorn nodded and smiled, turning back to his friend and reaching out to brush back a damp strand of hair that had fallen across Legolas' forehead, noting with satisfaction that his temperature was obviously slowly returning to normal.  
"Yes, he will be. He will be just fine."  
  
Seobryn gave a small sigh of relief.  
"The Great Ones be praised! He appeared so … dead when you arrived here." He shot a quick look at the unmoving form on the bed. "But he looks a lot better now." He lowered his gaze and added, "Master Owaeran feels very guilty."  
  
"Does he?" Celylith asked, somewhat sarcastically. "Well, his brother is apparently in a whole lot more trouble than we thought."  
  
"It appears so," Aragorn agreed, leaning back into his chair. "Whoever these men were, they were not happy about strangers asking questions about the elusive Master Gwemyr. I think they were the same that came here asking all these questions."  
  
"You met some of them?" Seobryn asked, eyes wide. "They did this?"  
  
"You could say so," Aragorn said grimly. "And they were rather intent on asking us a few things as well. And somehow, they felt even more threatened when they discovered that Legolas and Celylith were elves."  
  
"I don't know, Strider," Celylith said, frowning slightly. "Perhaps that were only the usual prejudices. You know: We eat babies, practice dark magic and capture men and dwarves to drink their blood."  
  
"That explains a lot," Aragorn mumbled, grinning when he saw the indignation on the silver haired elf's face. "Peace, _mellonamin_, I was joking. But somehow I don't think so. It's just a feeling."  
  
"Well, what else does that feeling tell you? You are Lord Elrond's son, after all."  
  
"That we are in trouble, Celylith," Aragorn sighed, taking one of Legolas cold hands and warming it between both of his. "More and more serious trouble than we had thought."  
  
"That doesn't surprise me in the slightest," Celylith stated smugly, but worry could be clearly seen in his blue eyes. "Travelling with you two is truly a unique experience."   
  
"So now what will you do?" Seobryn asked, looking at Aragorn questioningly. "You don't know who those men are, do you?"  
  
"No," Aragorn agreed, his attention once again fixed on Legolas' pale face. He was still far too pale, but his elven body should at least spare him the illnesses a human would inevitably have contracted from being this long in ice water, such as pneumonia and the like.  
  
He shook his head, silver eyes darkening when they came to rest on the bandage that wound round the elven prince's head.  
  
"No, we do not. But we will find out, and then may Ilúvatar help them if they don't answer my questions."  
  
  
  
  
  
**TBC...  
  
  
  
  
  
** _dúnadan - 'Man of the West', ranger  
mellonamin - my friend_  
  
  
  
  
***sighs contentedly* No cliffy, see? I'm not thoroughly evil, now am I? Readers: Yes, you are!! *shrugs* Ah well, you're right, I guess... Okay, so look out for the next chapter, in which we will see ... hmm, annoyed rangers, a vengeful elven prince, and the effects of a simple** **law of nature that dictates that Aragorn must get into trouble if Legolas already has. *shrugs again* Reckless human, that one.   
Do you feel that irresistable urge to submit a review? Yes? Good! Don't fight it! Review, please!!  
  
  
  
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** **Additional A/N:  
  
**Gwyn - *evil giggle* Oh yes, things are definitely heating up here! You might be right about the cliffies, btw, somehow there appeared yet another two at the end of the next chapters. I don't know where they come from either... Uhm, you've fallen for Legolas? Well, that happens rather often around here, I guess ... And real guys aren't this great because they're ... uhm, yes, real? Plus they don't get so many chances at acting all heroic and stuff... *g*  
Grumpy - *g* Thanks! Glad you like the ciffies, there are many more coming up soon! Thanks for reviewing!  
CrazyLOTRfan - You're backflipping just for me? Aww, I'm honoured... Wow, I'm in "101 Ways To Torture Fanfic Readers"? That is SO cool! And evil, of course, I love evil... Don't worry, we will have cliffies in the future, chapters 10 and 11 both have one! Yay!  
XsilicaX - Precisely! I learned this a long time ago: Blackmail + Evil Cliffy = Many Lovely Reviews. Been following that equation ever since.... *g* And I would feel very sad indeed if I killed you. I would learn to move on, of course, but for approximately 5 seconds I would be heartbroken... LOL, I've been watching too much Austin Powers lately... Mhahaha! Many questions, and so few answers! You will have to wait a bit longer, I'm afraid... LOL, I'm sure you would LOVE to comfort Estel, but I'm afraid you'd have to get past Lina for that - and you know how she is... *g*  
LOTRFaith - Yeah, well, Celylith was having a lot of fun on his own... And Legolas is indeed very self-sacrificing. Other people would call it 'stupid', but well... *evil grin* Thanks for the review!  
Aratfeniel - *insane grin* Hey, who _isn't_ insane here? That's much more fun anyway... Celylith is pronounced like "Kelylith", with a K. In Sindarin all Cs are pronounced like 'K', just like Celeborn, Celebrimbor and so on. Great you liked the chapter, I hope you'll enjoy the rest as well!  
Coreinha - Me? Want to kill Legolas? Whatever gave you THAT idea? *g* Mighty-And-Powerful-Yet-Incredibly-Attractive-And-Intelligent-One? I LIKE that name! You may call me that from now on... *g*  
Lina - *shakes Éomer's hand* I am so very proud of you and your Rohirrim! You really managed to hold her back - well done! LOL, Legolas is plunging into icy doom? I don't know why, but I just cracked up at that line! *watches Rohirrim ride triumphantly South* There they go again ... but they will be back ... they always are.... *sighs* Glad you still like it! *hugs Lina* Thanks for reviewing again!  
Firnsarnien - No! *raises eyebrow* You're a Legolas fan? I would _never_ have guessed! *sarcasm* Really? Well, I do hope that there's Legolas angst in here, but he's busy being unconscious most of the time, so I don't rightly know... And now, put down that tomato or I won't post! I mean it! Put it down, now!  
TrinityTheSheDevil - I know what you mean. FF withdrawal must be the most painful there is! It's horrible - I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy! *frowns in thought* You're right! This could become part of the dreams, but then agian, so will other things... *evil grin* Next chapter. *blinks* You really like seeing poor Aragorn hurt, huh? Well, don't worry: I haven't found a name for chapter 11 yet, so right know it's called "Torture-the-Ranger". See what I mean?  
Critternut - What? *clueless look* You don't like my cliffies? Why not? _I _ think they are extraordinarily much fun! *g* Oh, no, you're right, I wouldn't let you hang forever, only for a few days. That's not too much, is it? And because you have reviewd, you really get a Legolas plushie! Here you go! *hands her plushie*  
Alexa - *ducks slightly* Yes yes yes, your poor elfling, you're right there. Don't blame Celylith though, he had enough trouble on his own. IF you want to blame someone, then blame Legolas! He is such an idiot! I mean, most people would call it heroic or something, I call it stupid. LOL, j/k, don't kill me! See, update's here, am I forgiven now?  
Arwen-Evenstar - *pokes her* Are you dead? Well, I'm terribly sorry, I never meant for this to happen! *nods solemnly* Oh yes, they do have a knack for getting themselves and all those with them into trouble. Just wait a chapter and you'll see _how_ much trouble...   
Mouse - Oh, am I? Evil, I mean? Thanks! *huggles Mouse* So you want to know where I live? No problem, Germany, Berlin, come and visit any time! *g* And I'm NOT freezing Legolas, well, yes, maybe I am, but only a little. Plus he's an elf, he'll live. I think. *evil cackle*   
Leggylover03 - What have I done? Well, uhm, thrown him into the lake? Yeah, I think that was it. Aragorn is not exactly diving, but somthing like that, yes. Thanks for reviewing!  
Mer - Well, yes, Legolas' inner voice can be quite persistent form time to time, I'll give you that. The problem is, I have one of these myself, and it's twice as bad. *sighs* Poor Nili. Well, great you liked it! Thanks a lot for the review!  
Cestari - *shakes her head* Time - what is that? I never have enough time... Well, actually I am quite glad that it _didn't_ really developed into a family tradition. It's quite painful, I guess, and it would spoil Aragorn's looks! Don't worry, I wouldn't Legolas die in a stupid lake, as I said, it's not painful enough. He won't get away with that! Wow, I'm under fav. stories and fav. authors? Thanks! *huggles her*  
Delph - Hey, I am nice! Am I not? I mean, I post about every four days if FF.net lets me! I think that's quite fast, isn't it? *puppy dog eyes* Oh, and yes, I do have plot bunnies, wuite a lot of them, actually. But they're locked up in a cage in the basement, otherwise they'd wreak havoc with my life... *g* You're right! I mean, hey, Legolas is an elf! He'll live - probably... *evil grin* Thanks a lot for reviewing! They really help me a lot!  
Fliewatuet - Well, I'm not _that_ fast, am I? Unfortunately, I'm not as fast as C&S, but then again, nobody is. *grins satisfied* So I surprised you? It would have been too easy if they had met with Adruran just yet. But you're right, eventually they will, and then this will get unpleasant real fast.... *g*  
Zam - *stares wide-eyes* Okay then, Zam, calm down, that's it ... nobody wants to steal your Celylith, it's okay... Just Coreinha, Nilbrethiliel and about a dozen other people... *g* Well, Celylith would be called 'Celythramirion' then - that's not too bad, is it? *puts hand over Zam's mouth* Leave poor Seobryn alone, will you? He's blushing enough as it is! Honestly, he will get a stroke or somehitn like that and it will be YOUR fault! *watches Zam dive into the lake* Well, have fun then! You do know that he's an elf and can tolerate extreme temperatures better than you? But okay, go ahead, go on...  
Imbefaniel - Yes, of course he will! I would never kill the poor elfling just like that! Sure you can join the Cellyith fan club! Just look out for Zam Kenobi - she is a bit, uhm, obsessed with him!  
Aralondwen - *blushes* Thanks so much, I like being evil! It's so much more fun than being nice! Well, your torture machine sound very intimidating indeed, so I will update. See? Next chapter's here! So now give me back my plot bunnies, or I'll send my pet balrog Stan after you! Don't think I wouldn't! Thanks a lot for your ... uhm, let's say ... interesting review, huh? *g* It was slightly insane, but a lot of fun!  
Halo - Oh, come on, you KNEW what was going to happen! You had some time to get used to the idea! Well, you're right, Legolas might feel slightly cold, but then agian, he's an elf, he will cope - I think... *evil cackle* Next bit's here, don't worry!  
Miss Understood - Well, Legolas isn't exactly a girl, but I'll admit that sometimes he looks like one. A lot less than other elves, of course, but still... EEk! *runs off to escape angry Legolas fans* Yeah well, I'm sorry, but I thought something else might do a bit better. Otherwise the story would have been over far too soon. And I'm sorry about Seveawen, I just thought that the boy could use someone to cheer him up - don't be too angry, okay?  
NaughtyNat - *bows* Thank you! I simply _love_ cliffies, I can chuckle for days after writing one... Well, I'm not yet sure about the owies. I think about the same for each of them, perhaps a little bit worse for Aragorn, but certainly not too much. And we can't forget poor Celylith either, can we? *evil smile* Don't worry though, Aragorn owies are coming in chapter 10 and 11!   
Alilacia - Well yes, there are a few more cliffies coming up ... don't worry, only in chapter 10 ... and 11 .... *g* LOL, you can blink threateningly? That is interesting... You are soooo right, one really should send a carrier pidgeon to Elrond - they can use all the help they can possibly get, believe me... And you're right again, of course the water won't be good for poor ickle Legolas, and of course Aragorn will feel guilty. *sighs* They're quite predictable, aren't they?  
Nilbrethiliel - Huh, wenn du moechtest, kann ich dich noch hinterherschmeissen! So zusammen unter'm Eis eingeschlossen zu sein macht doch gleich doppelt so viel Spass, oder? Tja, freut mich, dass jemand Seveawen nicht zu Hackfleisch verarbeiten moechte, die meisten Damen hier sind einfach ein wenig ... uhm, eifersuechtig? Ich hoffe uebrigens um deinetwillen, dass das nicht Celylilth unter deinem Bett war - andererseits muss ich mal vorbeikommen, und noch schlimmer, du muesstest es Zam Kenobi erklaeren, die da leicht besitzergreifend sein kann... Freut mich doch, dass du Angst magst, ich liebe es auch! Wir sind krank, ich weiss...  
Tapetum Lucidum - LOL, 'icehanger' is a very fitting word! *g* Don't worry, I would never let Legolas freeze to death, as I said: Too easy and not painful enough! Well, I guess government are the same wherever you are, and ME won't be that different either... Thank you very much for all your kinf words, reviews really help me a lot - besides, I'm addicted to them... *g*  
Jenny - Well, yes, I guess you could say that. He will be quite cold indeed... *evil chuckle* Thanks a lot for reviewing!  
ManuKu - Wow, gleich zwei reviews auf einmal! Das ist ja umwerfend! *reibt Heande zusammen* Schoen! Ich weiss genau, was du eminst mit Zugfahren. Ein paar Jahre bin ich auch immer mit dem Zug zur Schule gefahren - irgendwo war's praktisch, aber auch immer ziemlich nervtoetend! LOL, tja, Sauron kann die Kreativitaet ja nicht immer mit Schwarz erdruecken, nech? *empoert* Hey, ich habe Celylith nie den 'geek' spielen lassen! Ich fand ihn schon immer cool, nur eben ein bisschen anders... LOL, Legolas as Leo II.? Na, da hab mal keine Angst, so einfach stirbt unser Lieblingselb nicht. Tja, ich nehme an, dass Celylith wirklich sein bester elbischer Freund waere, nachdem Glónduil ja nun aus dem Rennen ist... Momentan weiss ich noch nicht, wie viele Kapitel es geben wird, aber ich nehme an, es wird sich ungefaehr im gleichen Rahmen wie AEFAE bewegen, vielleicht ein oder zwei weniger. Und Celylith: Momentan habe ich noch keine Plaene, ihn umzubringen, aber was nicht ist, kann ja noch werden... *fieses Grinsen*  
Carrie - Well, yes, you're right, it would be a lot easier if they wouldn't go to Lake-town, but so much less fun for us! We can't have that, can we? *eyes begin to gleam* Trees! I had totally forgotten about those wonderful things! Thank you for reminding me, I have just THE idea for a wonderful new scene now... I agree with you, Thranduil _should_ lock them up in the dungeons, but I guess Elrond wouldn't be too pleased about that and stuff... *shrugs* Bad for them. *huggles Carrie* Thanks for reviewing! I missed you, really, I did!  
Amelie - No, I would never kill Legolas, I may be insane, but I'm not stupid! I know perfectly well that I wouldn't live to the next morning if I ever did that... *g* Thanks a lot for reviewing!  
Randomramblings - Uhm, what shall I say: Yes? This chapter, the next chapter, and the chapters after that ... so, essentially, yes! *g* Thank you very much for the review!  
ThE iNsAnE oNe - I don't know why, but that happens a lot to you, doesn't it? That FF.net eats your reviews, I mean - have you done something to it? But then again, FF.net doesn't need a reason for hating you... Well, I won't take him away, IF you make sure that the twins, Estel and Legolas treat him alright. I couldn't watch poor Nólad suffer, he's been through enough already... LOL, so now Estel is a ranger popsicle? That is definitely not good, just think of what Elrond would say... I know that RL can be busy sometimes, so there's no need for excuses. I hope you'll enjoy your holidays! I'm you will, Costa Rica ... *sighs* So great.  
Stacee Phelps - Well, if you like Aragorn angst, then you're just right here! Just wait for chapter 11 and you'll know what I mean... *evil chuckle* I love dropping mysterious hints... *blushes* Well, I do certainly _not_ rival C&S, but they're goddesses anyway ... but thanks fir saying it! It gave me a morale booster! *g* Thanks a lot for reviewing!  
Alisha - A very good question, my friend! In fact, it is a question I have asked myself numerous times! Why can't they just mind their own buisiness? I don't know why either, perhaps they're masochists - that's about the only explanation I can come up with. *nods* It's the reason why I decided to throw Legoals into the water and not Aragorn: Aragorn would be dead in two minutes while Legolas can survive a bit longer. Not that much longer, but a bit. *g*  
Marbienl - *shoots Legolas annoyed look* Just WHY did you fix that? Now she'll try again to hypnotise my characters, and we can't have that!! *glowers at Marbienl* You hear me? Well, I wouldn't wish being trapped under ice on anyone either. I was trapped under an upturned boat once and almost drowned, and that wasn't fun either. And you're right. The whole story is a vicious circle... *g* Yeah, Legolas is something of a big brother, though not as protective (at least openly) as the twins. *g* Yes, you have many questions indeed, and some answers will be indeed provided in this chapter. Not all, but most of them. Oh, and I think Rashwe can bear a grudge for quite some time, after all, Elrohir DID want to feed it to the goblins. And hey, I'll be 21 tomorrow, and "meine Dame" isn't only for old people. It's just like "my lady"m and since they abolished "Fraeulein" there isn't much left... And don't worry, we will have Estel owies in chapter 11! Yay!   
Salara - Oh, und noch eine doppelte review! Danke danke danke! Komm mir nicht mit Umzuegen! Ich werde wahrscheinlich auch bald umziehen, das ist dann ja auch erst mein 10. *seufzt* Irgendwann macht's auch keinen Spass mehr, oder? Hey! Celylith ist kein 'freakiger Elbe'! Lass das mal bloss nicht Zam hoeren, die kennt da gar nichts! Und nicht boese auf den Armen sein, der hatte mehr als genug eingene Probleme - ausserdem gibt es einem Gelegenhiet fuer ein bisschen Celylith angst, nech? *g* Eine Nólad-Klon? Natuerlich, meine Dame, kein Problem! Das mit den anderen koennte etwas problematischer werden, da ich die nicht auf Vorrat habe, aber ich werd gucken, was sich machen laesst! Danke fuer die lange review!  
  
***shakes head* You didn't really think I'd let Legola die, did you?** **I'm not suicidal, you know...** **Thanks a lot for the lovely reviews! And tomorrow's my birthday, so you can send another one! J/K!! Thanks so much!**  
  
  
  



	10. Unseen Traps

**Disclaimer: **For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.  
  
  
**A/N:  
  
*huggles readers* Thank you all SO MUCH for your Birthday wishes! I had in fact quite a lot of fun on my birthday, even the weather was really nice! And for all those people who congratulated me on being able to drink alcohol now: Here you are allowed to drink alcohol when you turn 18. You are an adult with 18, but in court you are still treated like a child in some cases. Until you're 21, so that's over now! *sighs* All the great things I still wanted to do... *g*  
  
Oh, a little warning beforehand: The next weeks will get even more chaotic than the previous month, so once again I cannot guarantee that I will be able to update as frequently as now. Don't panic though, because I promise to try my best, okay? *g*  
  
Well, so... *grabs Celylith from where Zam Kenobi has him stuffed in her closet* Yes, that was what I wanted to say: Could you please just nod when Zam tells you that Celylith is her husband? She is getting a little bit scary here, so just be nice and nod, okay?  
  
  
Fine! Now that's resolved, on to the next chapter (it's already chapter 10, can you believe that? *shakes head*)! And since I know how much you like cliffies, here's another one! Don't even think about blaming me, it's all my alter ego's fault. Yes, it is. *g*  
  
Have** **fun and review, please!**  
  
  
  


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Chapter 10  
  
  
Owaeran slowly stepped out into the corridor outside the bedroom he shared with his wife, closing the dark wooden door as soundlessly as possible.   
  
It was almost ridiculous, he thought to himself as he tiptoed to reach the staircase that led downstairs. He was the master of this house, he had helped build it himself, and he was sneaking through the corridors like some sort of common thief?   
  
But the trader knew perfectly well that he had to be very quiet, or Misien would be after him quicker than he could say "Good morning, my dear." His wife had adamantly insisted that he didn't disturb those "poor young lads" and especially the "boy" who had fallen into the lake. He had tried to convince her that at least two of the three "boys" were each older than all the humans under this roof combined, but his wife would hear nothing of it. If someone looked younger than her, her protective instincts flared to life, and nothing would change that.  
  
He smiled softly. He dearly loved his wife, even after all these years, and he really did not want to anger her by going against her wishes, but he had to ask the ranger what had happened. The sight of King Thranduil's only son and heir, lying pale, bloodied and motionless in the other elf's arms was enough to give him nightmares for years to come.  
  
He knew the woodland king quite well, as well as a Lake-man would ever be able to know the golden haired elf, and therefore could imagine what the elven king would say if the crown prince died in his, Owaeran's house.   
"Bad for business" didn't even begin to describe it, he thought, avoiding the steps he knew to creak noisily and slowly making his way to the first floor. Besides, he really liked the fair haired elf, and owed him and the others a great deal. To have any of them die because of what Gwemyr had got himself into was an idea too frightening and horrifying to consider.  
  
A floorboard creaked softly under his feet and he froze, listening for any indication that someone had heard the noise. Even though he was already too far away for his wife to hear him, he was close enough to a few of the servants' chambers, and, he thought wryly, beginning to move once again, there was only one thing more embarrassing than to be caught by his wife, and that was to be caught by his servants.  
  
Owaeran quickly shot a look out of the window; dawn was already beginning to show in the East. The servants would get up soon. He quickly took the last steps into the directions of the guest quarters and, knocking slightly, he stepped into Prince Legolas' room.  
  
He found himself face to face with an alert wood-elf who had one of his hands on his daggers that hung in leather sheaths on his belt and mustered him with an intensity that he couldn't bear for long, even after all the years of trading with the fair folk.  
  
Averting his eyes, he nodded his head and said,  
  
"Lord Celylith."  
  
The elf stepped back and soundlessly pulled up another chair, placing it next to the bedside.  
"Master Owaeran. Please, sit."  
  
The elderly man sat down, wondering for a moment how it was that all elves seemed to command such … respect, so to say. If the silver haired elf had told him to leave the room, he would have done so, without even thinking about protesting that this was his house.  
  
He turned his eyes on the bed and the sleeping figure that almost disappeared under a mount of thick woollen blankets. All that could be seen of the elf that occupied it was the bandaged head … oh, and a hand that was being held by the sleeping ranger that sat next to the bed in an armchair. The younger man looked almost as pale and exhausted as the elven prince and, again just like the elf, incredibly young.  
  
Owaeran turned back to the elf next to him and whispered,  
  
"Perhaps we should talk about this somewhere else. I believe they need their sleep."  
  
Celylith laughed softly and leaned back against the carved back of his chair, shaking his head.  
"Don't worry, Master Human. My prince isn't due to wake up for some hours yet, and the only think that could rouse Strider now would be if Legolas moved. He wouldn't wake up even if you paraded a horde of oliphaunts across the room."  
  
The man smiled slightly at the thought.  
"How is the prince, then?"  
  
Celylith turned serious again.  
"Not so good, but Strider says he will be fine."  
  
"Are you sure that we shouldn't send for a healer?" the man questioned. "I mean no disrespect of course, but are you sure that the ranger…"  
  
"Yes, I am, Master Owaeran," Celylith said firmly. "Your concern is appreciated of course, but believe me when I say that Strider is one of the best healers on this side of the Misty Mountains. Perhaps even the best, if one disregards the Lady of the Golden Wood."  
  
Owaeran closed his mouth again and shrugged lightly. If this elf was so sure about this and was willing to trust the younger man with his prince's life, then he would do the same.  
  
"Very well then," he nodded. "But please, Lord Celylith, tell me: What happened? Have you found out something?"  
  
The elf sighed, pushing a strand of gleaming hair behind a pointed ear.  
"Yes, we have indeed. More than we had thought, and yet apparently not enough."  
  
The man blinked slowly, forcing himself to silently count to ten. If there was something he hated about elves, it was their habit to answer questions in riddles or not at all.  
  
"Please, Master Elf," he said, slight exasperation creeping into his voice, "I know how much your kind loves to confuse others, but please, do not torment me so. Have you learned something about my brother or not?"  
  
Celylith smiled slightly.  
"You are right, Master Human, forgive me. Let me put another log in the fire and then I will tell you all you want to know."  
  
After stoking the fire, Celylith told the man all that had happened, all about what the barmaids had said and the memorable encounter with the unknown men. He closed with a recount of how they had fished Legolas out of the channel and how Aragorn had revived him.  
  
When the elf leaned back in his chair after finishing the tale, Owaeran ran both his hands through his hair, with one ear noting that the servants were beginning to start their daily duties.  
  
"Eru, 'tis a dark tale you tell, Master Elf."  
  
"But it's the truth," a voice still rough from sleep said. Both he and the elf turned to look at the sleepy ranger that had apparently woken up some time ago. "And if anything, it is even more confusing now than before."  
  
Aragorn saw the slightly worried look in the other man's eyes and added quickly,  
  
"You did not wake me, do not worry. It is well that you are here, for I wished to speak with you as well."  
  
Owaeran nodded.  
"The men you met, they are serving my competitor, I think. The leader, was he a tall man with dark hair and a tattoo on his right wrist?"  
  
Aragorn sat up a little bit straighter and carefully placed his elven friend's hand next to his still body.  
"Yes. I have not seen his wrist since he wore a cloak, but the rest sounds right."   
  
"I have seen it," Celylith confirmed. "During the fight the cloak shifted, and while I was blocking a blow from that wooden club, I could see the tattoo. A fox's head with bared teeth, I think."  
  
"That is him," the older man nodded, "Even though a skunk would have been more appropriate if you ask me. He's called 'the Fox' because of his cunning and sly nature they say, hence the tattoo, and he's been working for my competitor for several years now."  
  
"Then we do have the proof that that gentleman is not the one behind your brother's disappearance," Aragorn concluded. "But they have something to do with all this, I know it. They were very interested in what we know and why we were asking questions about your brother. I think they are trying to protect something, so to speak."  
  
"And what would that be?" Celylith asked, arching a dark silver eyebrow.  
  
The dark haired man shrugged.  
"If I did know that, my friend, I would already be on my way asking this 'Fox' a few questions of my own."  
  
"An investment," Owaeran said quietly, understanding dawning on his face. He raised his eyes to look in the curious faces of his guests.   
  
"An investment," he repeated. "You must understand, my 'friend' is a trader to the core of his very heart. He would never do anything if it wasn't profitable for him, and the only thing he is interested in is his money, and how to get even more than he already has. There is one thing I can tell you: If he has sent these people to protect something, then it can only be money. And, if I know him at all, a lot of money."  
  
"But what exactly would that have to do with your brother?" Celylith asked, looking even more confused than he had been before. To him the thought of going through all this trouble because of money seemed rather ridiculous. But then again, these were men, and men were known to desire what was worst for them.  
  
"I haven't got the slightest idea," the trader admitted.  
  
"Neither have I," Aragorn nodded grimly. "But I know a few people who do have the answers to these questions. I think it is time that we go and ask them."  
  
Owaeran looked from Strider's face to that of the silver haired elven warrior, and came quickly to the conclusion that those men might have made a bigger mistake in attacking the prince than they could even imagine.  
  
  
  
  
The first thing Legolas became aware of was a softly chanting voice in his head. He strained to understand what it was it said, but he just didn't have the energy to do anything, be it mentally or physically. With surprise he noted that he could hardly remember a time in his life when he had felt more exhausted, but then again, he didn't have the strength to think about that for long either.  
  
While he was floating between waking and unconsciousness, the voice slowly became louder and clearer, and he could hear what it was that it was saying.  
  
'Cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold…'  
  
With a mental headshake of disgust, Legolas tried to block it out. In his opinion it was a rather stupid thing to chant, especially because elves didn't _get_ cold. The firstborn were more resilient than the younger races, and to feel cold was something unknown to most of them.  
  
The voice chuckled at that, and images and memories flashed through his head with lightening speed, images of water, ice and a blinding pain situated directly behind his brow, and memories of deadly cold, a cold that seeped into his very bones and left him unable to move, unable to feel, unable to think…  
  
'Curious,' he thought with an inward shudder. 'So that is what cold feels like?'  
  
Slowly his hearing decided to work again, and after what seemed to be a year or two, he was able to make out some sounds around him. He could hear the soft breathing of a person to his right, and on his left the occasional ruffling of clothes when another person moved.   
  
But the things that were really confusing him were the facts that first, he couldn't open his eyes, and that second, he didn't feel cold like his brain told him he rightly should. The last thing he could remember was feeling cold, so cold that he had felt as if he would never be able to move a muscle again.  
  
While he was still contemplating how it was possible that he wasn't still feeling like that (he had already ruled out the possibility that the seasons had changed places and summer had made a sudden and unexpected appearance), a cool hand touched his forehead, lingering there for a moment.  
  
"I think he is waking up," a voice he knew he should know said, and the hand travelled down to rest against his cheek. "Legolas? Can you hear me? You have slept long enough, my friend, it is time to wake now. And here I thought that elves needed little rest."  
  
'Aragorn,' a voice in his head helpfully provided. 'That must be Aragorn, only he can be this annoying in so few sentences.'  
  
Doggedly the elven prince worked his way all the way back to consciousness, refusing to let the tempting darkness pull him under again. Finally he managed to pry his eyelids open and, so happy with this achievement, did nothing but stare at the ceiling for a while, enjoying the warmth that seemed to envelop his whole body.  
  
He knew this room, he decided, it was a guest room … somewhere.   
  
Suddenly, a face appeared in his line of vision, so suddenly that he really couldn't tell where it had come from.  
  
"Welcome back, Legolas," the face said, smiling down at him. A second hand appeared and pressed against the other side of his face to keep his head still while the person above him peered intensively into his still slightly glazed eyes. "Do you see double? Or blurry?"  
  
Legolas frowned slightly, wondering for a moment how very odd these questions were. Why should he see double? The face was apparently not thinking clearly. Just then his mind shook off the last remnants of sleep, and the memories connected with his present condition and Aragorn's voice with the face looking down at him.  
  
"Aragorn?" he asked, blinking slowly in confusion. He had almost not recognised his own voice that sounded rather un-elvish, hoarse and quite weak.   
  
"That is one of his names," another voice to his left chimed in, amusement and relief clearly audible. "But don't try to enumerate the rest of them or we will still be here coming spring."  
  
The hands holding his face were withdrawn, and Aragorn shot the person to Legolas' left a dark look. "Very funny indeed, Celylith."  
  
Slowly Legolas turned his head to the left, already feeling much better now that he remembered what had happened.  
"Celylith?" he asked. "You are alright?"  
  
"Yes, my friend," the other elf assured him, briefly reaching out and pushing a strand of his friend's hair behind his ear, "I am just fine. You are the one who fell into the lake, not me."  
  
"I didn't fall," Legolas protested, smiling slightly, trying to move under the mount of blankets that had been piled up over him and wincing in pain when the throbbing in his head redoubled at that. "I broke in. That's a difference."  
  
"How do you feel?" Aragorn asked, redirecting Legolas' attention. "Do you have a headache? I don't think you have a concussion, but I want to be sure."  
  
"I feel … fine," Legolas said slowly, trying to sit up and taking a deep breath when his side protested. What had he done to his side? He honestly couldn't remember. "Just a little confused, that's all. What happened?"  
  
That was not the entire truth, of course. He did have a headache, a rather bad one, but there was no sense in giving Aragorn yet another reason to mother him.  
  
Aragorn looked at his friend suspiciously. If he knew Legolas at all, then he was not 'fine'.  
"Celylith can explain," he said, busying himself with the healing utensils that covered every square inch of the small table next to Legolas' bed.  
  
While the other elf recounted everything that had happened since Legolas had broken through the ice yesterday night, Aragorn quickly mixed a few powders and crushed herbs in a goblet and added a mouthful or two of water.  
  
Just when Celylith finished his tale, he reached out and placed the cup in his elven friend's hand.  
"Here," he told Legolas. "Drink this."  
  
The elven prince merely looked from the cup to the dark haired human as if he had spoken that last sentence in the Black Speech.  
"Drink this? And why should I do that?"  
  
Aragorn knitted his brows and glared at his friend, noting with satisfaction how Legolas averted his eyes under the _look_.  
"It will help you with that non-existent headache of yours. And I promise it will not put you to sleep."  
  
Legolas raised his eyes again, flinching inwardly when Aragorn's _look_ became even more threatening. He would have to have a talk with Lord Elrond about this, he decided. There should be a law against teaching humans such things.  
  
"I don't have a headache," he protested, doing his best to sound convincing.  
  
Aragorn merely raised an eyebrow, and Legolas blanched. Dear Elbereth, now he looked even more like the Lord of Imladris, this was simply not fair…  
  
"Then it won't hurt you to drink it, will it?" he asked, sounding as if he was reasoning with a stubborn, mentally retarded child. "Drink it."  
  
Legolas found himself obeying, for the umpteenth time cursing Lord Elrond and his _look_. If he had never invented it, then he never could have taught it to his sons. So it was all his fault, and no-one but the Master of Rivendell could be blamed when his wayward children terrorised innocent elves and men with that accursed _look_ of his.  
  
Aragorn grinned smugly when his friend had emptied the cup, taking it back from him before Legolas had the chance to fling it into his direction which was obviously the only thought on the prince's mind right now, judging by his expression.  
  
"See," the ranger told the fair haired elf, placing the goblet safely out of his friend's reach, "It wasn't that bad. If you're good I will even allow you out of bed today."  
  
At this Legolas' mouth fell open with indignation and surprise. That … presumptuous, annoying, mothering human, who did he think he was? He was the Prince of Mirkwood and thousands of years older than this child that was thinking he could order him around!  
  
"If you 'allow' me out of bed, human?" the prince asked, sitting up in his bed and ignoring the fact that his stomach felt rather queasy at that action. "We have a few questions to ask if it is true what you tell me, and I will _not_ stay here like a child while you wander around this city getting yourself in trouble!"  
  
Aragorn's eyes flashed at that.  
"Yes, you will, elf," he said, trying to push the elf back onto his back. "You almost died yesterday! You will not leave this bed until I allow you to!"  
  
"Oh, really?" Legolas countered, about to climb out of the bed. "Then I would advise you to watch closely, my friend, for that is exactly what I am doing!"  
  
"You are not! You are not strong enough!"  
  
"I am an elf, human! I _am_ strong enough!"  
  
"You are not! You are an idiot, nothing more."  
  
Celylith leaned back into his chair, hiding a smile and at the same time deciding that he probably didn't even have to do that. It was obvious that those two had already forgotten that he was here.  
  
Listening to the argument, he thought with a pang of regret that it was a real shame that he wasn't in Mirkwood. A few of his warrior had a bet going, a bet about who was more stubborn, Legolas or Aragorn. Secretly, the silver haired elf was convinced that they were both more stubborn than any other being he had ever had the misfortune to meet, but in this particuolar situation he believed he had placed a bet on Legolas winning after an argument of at least thirty minutes.  
  
In his opinion it all depended on the circumstances, and right now he thought that Legolas would emerge victorious from this trial.  
  
'But,' he thought, wincing when Legolas called Aragorn a "bossy, arrogant mother hen", 'it is a truly unique chance to witness this.'  
  
Entertainment such as this one was extremely hard to come by.  
  
  
  
  
Exactly forty-two minutes later, Aragorn stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him in a manner that would make his elven instructors cringe in embarassment. He didn't even see the servants that stared at him with wide eyes, for he was far too busy cursing Legolas in every language he had ever encountered.  
  
'That idiotic, stubborn, reckless, thick-headed, haughty, arrogant, blind…'  
  
When he was finished with insulting his friend in Westron, he moved on to Sindarin, then to Quenya, to the insults in Khuzdul he knew, and then to the dialects of the Rohirrim and the little that he knew of the tongues of the Southrons. Elrond had been adamant that he learned as many languages as he could, insisting that they would serve him well in later life, even though he probably would have been somewhat shocked to find that his young foster son had been concentrating on a rather disputable part of the vocabulary.  
  
The young ranger stopped at the end of the hallway, seriously considering giving the carved balustrade a vicious kick. He abandoned that idea though, for it would probably not only serve to frighten the servants even more that were already looking at him as if he were a madman, but he would probably break a toe as well. That'd be just his kind of luck.  
  
But really, he thought, calming down slightly, that … that … elf was just too irritating! Aragorn grasped the railing tightly and looked darkly down the stairs. He was only trying to help his friend, nothing more, and he was certainly not trying to 'mother' him. Ha, he and mothering Legolas! He was just acting like a responsible healer should, that was all.  
  
But that stubborn, irritating wood-elf was not even listening to what he was saying! He had just stood there – swaying slightly, one might add by the way – and insisted that he was fine, thank you very much.  
  
'Fine!' he fumed inwardly, 'Fine indeed! He is not fine! Eru, one of these days I will kill him! I really will.'  
  
Despite his anger he heard the soft footfall of an elf that was drawing closer, and, knowing that Legolas was too intelligent to show his face just yet, he turned and looked at Celylith, who wore a wide, annoying grin and looked as if he had just won a lot of money – which he had, actually, since he had predicted an argument of at least thirty-eight minutes, but there was no way for the young human to know that.  
  
"What?" he growled threateningly. "Don't say it. Whatever it is you want to say, if you are fond of the place your head is occupying right now and would like it to remain there, then don't say it."  
  
"I wasn't about to say anything, ranger," Celylith assured him and carefully took a step backwards, away from the seething form of the young human. Aragorn hadn't really believed that Legolas would heed his commands and stay in bed, had he?  
  
"I was just about to go down to the kitchens to see if they have anything left for us. We should get some food into him before we leave," the silver haired elf added, wincing inwardly when he saw Strider's darkening face. He probably shouldn't have mentioned the words "Legolas" and "leave" in one sentence, he decided.  
  
"He's an elf, Estel," he said soothingly. "We know our limits. He is strong, and if he says he is fine, then he is."  
  
The man merely looked at him with disbelief and something like pity in his eyes.  
"How long do you know him now, Celylith?" he sighed.  
  
The elf looked at him, a slightly confused expression on his fair face.  
"Practically all my life, so that's more than 2500 years now. You know that."  
  
Aragorn just smiled friendly at him.  
"So you've known him for two and a half millennia and you truly believe what you have just said? I have known him for barely two years now, and even I know that Legolas isn't 'fine' when he says he is. There is 'fine'-fine and there is fine. Right now he is 'fine'-fine, believe me."  
  
Celylith's mind still tried to come up with an answer to that as he attempted to come to terms with Aragorn's distinction of 'fine'-fine and just fine, wondering not for the first time if being this strange was still normal, when a timid voice on the stairs caught their attention.  
  
"Strider? Could I have a word with you, please?"  
  
Aragorn looked down the softly winding staircase to see Seobryn stand on the bottom step, looking up at them anxiously. He wondered for a moment why the boy was here because he was supposed to be with his Master visiting the storerooms and shops when he remembered that it was already nearing afternoon. He had been so fixed on Legolas that he hadn't noticed the passage of time.  
  
Legolas … that annoying little…  
  
Forcefully calming himself and silently vowing to do something horrible to his friend in the near future, he smiled at the younger man.  
"Of course. Would you like to come up?"  
  
Celylith traded one look with the ranger and quickly began to descend the staircase.  
"I need to inform the kitchens."  
  
Seobryn almost dragged Aragorn to the very end of the deserted corridor, looking anxiously around him. Inwardly the ranger wondered what the boy could have possibly done wrong in such short a time.  
  
"What is it?" he finally asked when he could bear the other's squirming no longer. "Are you in trouble? Certainly not yet!"  
  
"No!" Seobryn exclaimed, red as a radish now. "No, nothing is wrong, and what I have seen of the business is very interesting indeed."  
  
"But?" the ranger asked confused. What could possibly have upset the other like this?  
  
"Well," the boy began, beginning to fiddle with a strand of light brown hair. "Well … have you … have you ever … liked someone? A lot?"  
  
Aragorn stared at him perplexedly. What in Ilúvatar's name was Seobryn talking about?  
"Yes, of course. I mean, I like my family a lot, and…"  
  
"No," Seobryn interrupted, turning even redder if such a thing was even possible. "I mean … a girl?"  
  
The young man stared at the boy, feeling as if someone had just emptied a bucket of cold water over his head. That was it what all this was about? Elbereth, why him?  
  
"So it is the fair Seveawen we speak of, yes?" he asked with a small smile.  
  
Seobryn lowered his head.  
"She is beautiful, isn't she?"  
  
"Very," Aragorn agreed somewhat dryly. "And she also seems to have her own opinions."  
  
"Yes!" Seobryn beamed. "She is wonderful! But … but…"  
  
"But what? Just talk to her, get to know her a bit better…"  
  
"Talk!? I cannot talk to her!" Seobryn exclaimed mortified, his face now the colour of dark bricks. "I cannot even look at her without blushing! How could I talk to her? What should I say? What if I embarrass myself and she laughs? Or thinks I'm an idiot? What then?"  
  
Aragorn resisted the very tempting urge to simply run away. He hadn't much experience in these matters and was certainly not the best person to ask. If Legolas ever heard about this…  
  
Suddenly, a wicked grin began to spread over his face.  
  
"Listen to me, Seobryn," he said solemnly, "I am not the best to give counsel in such matters, for I am hardly older than you. But do you know what? The prince is more than 2500 years old, and he has been in such situations many, many times." To be honest, Aragorn had no idea whether this was the truth or not, but it sounded rather good. "Legolas has a lot of experience in the matters of the heart. I am sure he could help you … you two could compose a poem or something like that."  
  
He had to bite down on his lip to stop himself from laughing. Seobryn however looked rather convinced, even though a bit frightened at the prospect of having to talk to an elf about this.  
  
"Do you think he would help me?" he asked timidly, the urge to finally speak to his love apparently outweighing the resident fear that he still had of the elves.  
  
"Oh, I am sure," Aragorn nodded. "He is very good at composing. Just go to him now. He will have time for you now."  
  
Seobryn smiled at him.  
"Thank you very much, Estel. Thank you."  
  
He turned and quickly walked away into the direction of Legolas' room, leaving a broadly grinning Aragorn behind. Oh, the ranger thought, this was priceless. The thought of Legolas being stuck in a room with a love-struck human boy, composing poems to the boy's love was almost too much to bear.  
  
'Yes,' he thought as he was quietly walking down the stairs, still grinning from ear to ear, 'Revenge is sweet indeed.'  
  
  
  
  
"You will die for this, _dúnadan_. Mark my words."  
  
Celylith raised his eyes to the heavens and watched the sun slowly go down behind the towering houses. In the beginning this had been rather amusing, he thought, but now the constant threats that Legolas was uttering quietly were beginning to get on his nerves.  
  
Very well, he amended, in the beginning it had been _very_ amusing. It would be quite a long time indeed until he forgot the look of embarrassment and anger Legolas had worn when he had joined them in the kitchens, glaring daggers at the young ranger.  
  
He stopped himself from chuckling loudly. He had to remember never to get Aragorn angry at him, the silver haired elf decided thoughtfully. The thought of Legolas writing love poetry was just…   
  
In front of him, Legolas' mumbling once again became audible.   
"You will pay for this, human. I will think of something, and then may the Valar protect you…"  
  
On hearing his friend's incensed voice Aragorn couldn't stay silent any longer.  
"Why so angry, my friend? I am sure you two came up with an adorable verse."  
  
Celylith winced. He wasn't sure if this had been the right thing to say. Ever since they had left Owaeran's house two hours ago Legolas had been like this, mumbling threats under his breath. Aragorn's mood wasn't much better, since Legolas had removed the bandage around his head, claiming that he was perfectly alright. Aragorn had got rather … upset by his friend's "reckless, irresponsible" behaviour, and so the two had done little more than glare at each other most of the time.  
  
Legolas shot the dark haired human a scathing glare.  
"That was one of the most evil things you have ever done, Strider."  
  
"You deserved it," Aragorn replied, returning the look in kind. "Besides, Seobryn needed some help."  
  
"So you sent him to me?" Legolas exclaimed. "Why didn't _you_ help him?"  
  
"Because, as you are so fond of remembering me all the time, you are thousands of years older than me. I am sure you have a lot more experience than I do in these matters."  
  
"I?" the elven prince whirled around to face the young ranger. "I? Do I look like someone who spends his time composing bad love poetry?"   
  
Celylith stopped as well, an evil twinkle in his blue eyes.  
"Well, I do remember a time when we were both about three hundred years old and the Lady Galadriel came to visit. One of her handmaidens was quite beautiful, and I distinctly remember a certain young elf who did nothing but…"  
  
He would have said more, but at this point Legolas hurriedly clamped his hand over the other elf's mouth.   
  
"A certain young elf who did what?" Aragorn asked, beginning to grin as well.  
  
"Nothing," Legolas replied quickly, closing his other hand in a vice-like manner around Celylith's arm. "Right, _mellonamin_?" He let go of the other and glared at him.  
  
"Right, my lord," Celylith replied, winking at the young ranger. "The certain young elf didn't spend his time under her window singing one love song after the other. He did nothing."  
  
Aragorn almost collapsed onto the ground with laughter, and Legolas gave his friend a look so hot that it would have put even Gandalf to shame.   
"A very unwise decision, Celylith. I know a lot of embarrassing stories about you as well."  
  
"But, as you constantly remind me, you best me in everything. Your stories are much more embarrassing than mine, my prince."  
  
Aragorn shortly stopped howling like a wounded hyena and looked at the silver haired elf with expectant eyes.  
"Really?"  
  
"No," Legolas replied curtly, annoyance creeping into his voice. His head was starting to hurt again, and together with his aching ribs did little to improve his temper. "Come now, we still haven't found out anything about this 'Fox'. If we want to reach the piers before nightfall we have to hurry."   
  
He stepped closer to his human friend and grasped his arm to pull him upright, only to draw back in shock when Aragorn hissed in pain and withdrew, holding his right upper arm.  
  
"Aragorn? What is it? Are you hurt?" Legolas asked, looking at the man in concern.  
  
The young ranger straightened himself and grimaced. Wonderful, now he had done it…  
"No. It's just a scratch. A bolt nicked me on that pier."  
  
Both of Legolas' eyebrows climbed up his forehead until they threatened to disappear into his hairline.  
"A scratch? Strider, the last time you had a 'scratch' we almost had to amputate your arm!"  
  
"Uhm, there I was younger and more reckless?" Aragorn asked, looking innocent.  
  
"Younger? It was last spring!"  
  
Aragorn shrugged nonchalantly and quickly began to walk down the bridge to prevent his friend from expecting his wound. Legolas just stared after his human friend, anger and worry boiling in his chest. Why hadn't that reckless human told him?  
  
"'Tis truly just a scratch, Legolas," Celylith said quietly as they followed Aragorn down the pier, walking back to the spot where they had fished the elven prince out of the water only a few hours earlier. "I bound it myself. It will be gone in a week."  
  
"That's not the point," the other elf retorted as they rounded a corner and neared the pier, "He should have told me."  
  
"So you can mother him?" Celylith asked, eyes twinkling.  
  
"I do not mother him! Or anyone!" Legolas protested, staring at his friend in indignation.  
  
Right then they reached the pier and Celylith was spared an answer. Various people in various inns had pointed them here, claiming that the 'Fox' spent a lot of time here. If they would find anyone that could tell them where he was, it would be here.  
  
The three of them looked around, trying to decide what to do, when a surprised voice behind them called out,  
  
"Well, if that aren't the people who are so fond of midnight swims!"  
  
The two elves and the human turned, and were surprised to see Tellyn stand in front of them, grinning cheekily.   
  
"Tellyn!" Aragorn exclaimed. "Yes, we decided to honour your invitation. I think that we forgot to introduce ourselves yesterday. These are Legolas and Celylith from Mirkwood, and my name is Strider."  
  
The older man nodded his head at the elves.  
"A pleasure to see you well again. It is a miracle you survived at all, let are alone on your feet."  
  
Legolas bowed his head.  
"Strider has told me what has happened. I am in your debt, Mater Human. If there is any way I can repay you for your kindness…"  
  
Tellyn waved his hand dismissively.  
"'Twas nothing, Master Elf. I have had enough of fishing corpses out of the lake."  
  
The three looked at each other.  
"It was you who found that man a few days ago?" Aragorn asked.  
  
"Aye," the older man nodded. "And a damn ugly business it was too. Someone bludgeoned him quite a bit." He grimaced in thought. "Then there was the slit throat, of course… Poor fellow. He didn't deserve such an end. He might have been a hothead, yes, but not a bad man…"  
  
"You know who he was?" Celylith asked the man unbelievingly.  
  
"Why, yes," Tellyn shrugged, carefully sitting down on a crate near the water's edge. "Of course. Young Drabo came here quite often, and he was always pleasant company. Even though I didn't agree with the choices he made, especially the ones concerning his friends. Some of them were bad company, they were."  
  
The three looked at each other, the same understanding etched into each face: Drabo had to be Gwemyr's friend whose name began with 'D'.   
  
"What kind of friends?" Legolas asked carefully, studying the elderly human's face.  
  
"Oh, some of them were nice enough fellows, but there were some that were … not," Tellyn explained shortly. "Most were rich lads from the eastern part of the town, you know the lot. Always looking for an 'adventure', never working for their living. The others though…"  
  
"The 'Fox'," Aragorn hazarded a guess, narrowing his eyes at him. "He was one of them?"   
  
"How did you know?" the older man asked suspiciously.   
  
"We are looking for him," Aragorn explained, pulling his cloak tighter around his body. The wind was picking up now that the sun was beginning to set, and large snowflakes began to fall once again.  
  
"Stay away from him," Tellyn advised them, looking at them intently. "He's no-one you want to talk to. He's ruthless and brutal, and he's not too fond of elves, I've heard."  
  
"So we've seen," Celylith muttered under his breath, clenching his fists.  
  
"Do you know where we can find him?" Legolas asked Tellyn.  
  
"If he isn't here, he will be in an inn called the "Empty Tankard" on the northern island," Tellyn shrugged. "He and his friends do nothing but drink and look for trouble, they do. I for my part like a little ale or two once in a while myself, but some things are just too much." He looked at the elves and the ranger, eyes almost pleading in the twilight. "Stay away from him. He doesn't think twice before drawing his knife, and he knows how to use it."  
  
Legolas smiled grimly, eyes dark as coals.  
"So do we. Thank you, Master Human; your help is greatly appreciated."  
  
"If you won't listen to what I say, then at least wait until tomorrow to go to him. It's getting dark; now it would be suicide. He knows that part of the town better than anyone else." Tellyn shot them a wry look. "Surely better than you."  
  
Legolas hesitated for a moment, but then nodded slowly.  
"You are right, Tellyn. Thank you again, one day I will find a way to repay you for your help."  
  
The two elves gave slight bows and turned back the way they had come, walking over the freshly fallen snow with ease. Aragorn gave the older human a smile and was about to follow them when a hand grabbed his elbow.  
  
"Be careful, lad," Tellyn told him, looking at him seriously. "You three are brave, but what you do is stupid, very stupid. Take care. I do not want to fish you three out of the lake next."   
  
"We will be," the young ranger smiled and nodded. "Thank you for your help, Tellyn."  
  
The dark haired man turned and walked after the two elves, and Tellyn couldn't help but wonder in what condition he or his body would be in the next time he saw him.  
  
  
  
  
"Well, that was interesting," Legolas said quietly as they were nearing Owaeran's house, the snow swirling around them now. "So we've found the gentleman with 'D'."  
  
"But someone found him first," Celylith remarked dryly.  
  
"Yes," Aragorn agreed. "But at least now we know where the connection between Gwemyr and Owaeran's competitor originated from."  
  
"Drabo and 'the Fox'," Legolas nodded shortly, hiding a grimace when his head told him in no uncertain terms what it thought of such an action. "But why should 'the Fox' and his friends kill Drabo? It doesn't make any sense."  
  
"I don't think it was them," Aragorn said slowly. "There must be a third group at work here."  
  
"Elentári!" Celylith sighed dramatically. "A third one?" After a second he looked at them, eyes serious under his silver hair. "You do forget one thing: What is this all about? What is the motive? What is it they are willing to kill for?"  
  
"Money, as Owaeran said," the young ranger said softly, disgust in his voice. "They are men, what else do you expect? With men it is always about money or power. Such are the ways of my kind."  
  
Legolas and Celylith stopped to look at the man, the trader's house already visible a few hundred yards to their right.  
  
"Not all men are like that, Aragorn," Legolas said seriously, looking into the grey eyes that refused to meet his gaze. "You cannot judge a whole race by the conduct of few, nor can you fault a young race for the mistakes it makes. Men are very young yet, and they might learn in the ages to come. Not all men only desire power, my friend. You have taught me that."  
  
The dark haired human raised his head and gave both of his elven friends a grateful smile.  
"Thank you."  
  
The two only nodded their heads, and together they made their way over to Owaeran's house. Celylith's hand had hardly touched the door handle when the door flew open, the bright light that poured out of the doorway lighting the whole catwalk.  
  
"There you are!" Seobryn exclaimed exasperatedly. He gave Legolas a conspiratorial wink which almost cost Celylith and Aragorn their composure; only the dark glare the fair haired elf gave them saved them from breaking into laughter right there and then. Seobryn didn't seem to notice, for he only pulled back the door and invited them to come in. "There is someone here that would like to speak with you."  
  
Intrigued, the three of them stepped over the threshold, Aragorn giving the nearly empty catwalk in front of the house a cursory glance before entering the house. Something had seemed odd … there was something that triggered something in his brain…  
  
While a servant took their cloaks, Seobryn explained,  
  
"We don't know who she is. She wouldn't talk to the Master or the Mistress but has insisted on talking to 'the elves'. She says that it is very important."  
  
"Slowly, Seobryn," Legolas said, shaking his head slightly. "Who are you taking about?"  
  
"The girl," the young man explained, looking as if that was the obvious answer. "She arrived here shortly after you left. She says there is something you need to know."  
  
Looking at his friends, the elven prince shrugged gracefully after a moment.  
"Very well, then please show us to her," he said, nodding at Seobryn who gave a quick bow and began to make his way down a passage to their right.  
  
Aragorn was about to follow them when he stopped, feet rooted to the spot. Now he knew what had seemed off on the catwalk: There had been a man, a man he was sure he had seen before. A man he had in fact seen in the last tavern they had visited yesterday, shortly after they had got the feeling that they were being observed.   
This couldn't be a coincidence, he thought grimly, that man was watching them.  
  
He quickly turned into the direction Seobryn and the others had gone, but they had already rounded a bend and had disappeared from view. The young man needed only a second to make up his mind and turned back to the door, snatching his cloak from the hands of a startled servant.  
  
He had just opened the door when the servant came rushing after him.  
"Sir! Please, where are you going!? It is getting dark outside!"  
  
Aragorn looked at the man, not having the time to explain his actions. If he didn't act soon, the man might be gone.  
"Tell Lord Legolas and the others that I have recognised someone on the catwalk outside. I will be back in a minute."  
  
He quickly closed the door behind him, leaving the servant standing in the corridor who studied the snow that had been carried into the building and wondered what he had done to deserve this. If he knew these people at all, the elves would not be happy to hear that the ranger had gone off by himself…  
  
Outside, Aragorn was thinking the exact same thing, but he was pushing these thoughts aside quickly when he saw the man he was looking for round a corner on the far side of the little bridge that separated the two rows of houses.  
Very well, he thought as he quickly made his way over to that corner, they would see what happened if they attacked his friends!  
  
He carefully stepped around the corner onto a small alley-like bridge, and instantly his survival instincts flared to life. He took another five or six steps, his hand on the hilt of his sword, and the warning that had been whispered in his mind was suddenly screamed by half a dozen voices. There was something wrong here, this was a…  
  
Suddenly, a bright light lit up a few dozen steps in front of him, and he stumbled back, instinctively closing his eyes against the harsh light that assaulted them and cursing under his breath. He wrenched his sword from its sheath and turned, just in time to parry a blow that had been aimed at his head. His eyes still wouldn't fully co-operate, and so he only saw a slightly blurry shadow that held a sword and moved quickly to strike again.  
  
Aragorn blocked the attack with ease, and just when he was about to go into the offensive as he had been taught, he heard a softly crunching noise behind him. In a split second he realised what that meant: There was another man in this alley. There were two of them!   
  
'Of course there are,' a small voice in his head murmured, 'Who do you think lit that light?'  
  
The young ranger was turning with lightening speed, bringing up his sword to protect himself against this new threat, but it was not fast enough. A hard blow caught his right arm at the exact same spot the crossbow had hit him, and the dark world exploded in bright pain.  
  
He was thrown into the wall of one of the houses to his left by the force of the blow, and his right hand opened on its own account to release his blade, the muscles spasming with pain. Aragorn waited for a moment for the pain to die down, but when it didn't, he clenched his teeth and tried to reach one of his daggers with his left, but when he saw a shadow step closer, he knew that it wouldn't be fast enough.  
  
The second blow landed squarely on his left temple, and in the split second that lay between the blinding pain and unconsciousness he decided that this would make Legolas very, very unhappy indeed.  
  
Then the darkness washed over him and pulled him under, and that was the last thing he thought for quite a long while.  
  
  
  
  
  
**TBC...  
  
  
  
  
  
** _dúnadan - 'Man of the West', ranger  
mellonamin - my friend  
  
  
  
  
_**Mhahahaha! *evil laugh* Cliffy! *hits herself* Sorry, that was HER, my alter ego, I mean. I am truly sorry, but I seem to be unable to stop her, not that I _want_ to, anyway... *g*** **Okay, as promised, we have lots of Legolas angst and Estel tort..., uhm, I mean, Estel in the next post. Please don't kill me, always remember: Dead authors tend to update rather infrequently. A review might help though. What do you think? Review? Please?** ***puppy dog eyes***  
  
  
  


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**Additional A/N:  
  
**Helen T - *g* It was 'only' Legolas that feel into the lake? *g* Don't let certain people here hear that! I am very much looking forward to that review you promised me! Thanks for the reviews!  
Gwyn - Well, okay, you might be right there, 'hot' isn't essentially the right term for it right now. And to be perfectly honest, I haven't fallen for Legolas, neither in the books nor in the movies. I read the books before the movies came out, and from Day One I loved Aragorn, although I would hardly say that I have fallen for him. *shrugs* I never liked blondes, anyway... *g*  
Coreinha - *smugly* That is your problem, my friend! I know perfectly well that I am addicted to reviews and therefore DO beg for reviews at any given opportunity! At least I _face_ my weaknesses... *g* *huggles her* Thanks! And I am sure that you know _many_ ways of helping a half-frozen elf, no doubt about that! *eyes grow wide* You would do THAT to me if I killed Celylith? Okay, maybe I will reconsider ... I will definitely reconsider... *g*  
XsilicaX - Ah well, you _could_ say that he is brave - I for my part say that he's stupid though. VERY stupid, but hey, he got lucky! He's still alive, that's something! *evil grin* Oh, I am quite sure you know how to warm him up, but I think it's best if you stayed right where you are. Exactly there, that's it, good girl, we don't watn to scare the poor ranger, now do we? *g* Exactly! Without us women men would be totally lost! I try to tell them all the time, but they rather listen, do they? *sighs* Men.  
Firniswin - *g* So you love Legolas _and_ Aragorn! Very good, it's only fair this way... *blushes* Thanks so much for all your - very nice, btw - compliments, I'm glad you like it so much! Thanks for the review!  
Imbefaniel - *shrugs* We're all obsessed with one character or another, aren't we? But if you really _believe_ you're an elf, I think it is time to seek professional help. Very, very fast! *g* I gave Legolas your flowers and the cards, I'm sure he'll really appreciate them once he's awake properly...  
Mouse - *g* 'Not enough left of them to fill a thimble'. I like that! And you're right, of course... Thanks a lot, and as I said, we're allowed to drink here as well - fortunately! Otherwise I'd spent most of the last three years in jail for underage drinking or whatever it's called. *g*  
Halo - *ducks* Hey! You can't hit me on my birthday! There's a law against that! And if there isn't, there should be! And I didn't kill him, that's something, right? Right? Jeez, just you wait, it can get MUCH worse, believe me...  
Alilacia - *pats her back* Calm down, everything's alright, Legolas will be just fine. Okay? Well, about the cliffy thing: I couldn't resist this one? I just love them, there's nothing I can do! *chuckles* Oh yes, Aragorn will _definitely_ need Legolas' help soon. Definitely! I haven't read HP 4 yet, but I know what happens and cuse JKR every minute of every day. Argh, how could she? She's plain evil, that's what she is...   
LOTRStarwarsMatrixFan - Yeah, somehow it always happens this way. One or two chapters with action and then one where they take a little break. They deserve one from time to time, mind you... And you're right, King Thranduil would most definitely not been happy to see his son's bones decorate the bottom of the Long Lake... *g* I have NO idea why you think I have more in store for them, really, I have not. *shrugs innocently* I would never harm them - permanently.  
Miss Understood - Uhm, okay, I see what you mean. If you're so obsessed with Seobryn, then just ignore the conversation Aragorn and he will be having, okay? Well, Aragorn's birthday is on the 1st of March, 2931 (TA), but Legolas' sin't known, I'm afraid. You really got up early for this story? That's sweet!  
LOTRFaith - Of yourse Legolas is alive, as I said, I am not suicidal. Oh, and I wouldn't say they don't get into trouble for a while. Hm, that dpends on how you define 'a while', I guess... *evil grin* Thanks a lot for reviewing!  
Zam - *backs off* Okay, Zam, sure, Celylith is yours. Nobody wants him, really, they're just ...joking, they're joking, that's it... *nervous smile* So it was your voice? I should have known, though, it was _really_ weird. I just KNEW that someone was going to complain about the hair! Really, you need to get your priorities in order, people... A Tellyn Fangirl Group? Oh, yes, why not, go ahead, have fun... You are bit obsessed with Celylith, did you know that? Just a thought...  
Lina - *watches Éomer blow harmonica etc* Hey, I was wrojng about him! He isn't stupid after all! He's just a musician, that's all! *g* LOL, 'Skiddaddle'? Don't tell me that's actually a word! LOL, you're going after him with scuba gear, huh? Well, would have been nice, but you kinda forgot the ... waterfall... *watches Lina fall over waterfall* There she goes. Ah well, at least now Éomer and his Rohirrim have something to do, for a change... *g*  
Critternut - Glad you like the plushy! You can never have enough of them, that's what I always say... And don't worry, I didn't get drunk - much. I still knew my first name. That's somthing, isn't it? Thanks for reviewing!  
NaughtyNat - Yup, Aragorn owies coming up next chapter, don't worry! Well, I still can't believe I actually inspired anyone to write anything - but apparently I have! Thanks! *huggles her*  
Elladan - Great you liked it! And you're not the only one that is beginning to like Celylith, I think there will be a fan club soon... *g* Thanks a lot for the review!  
TrinityTheSheDevil - *defensively* Well, that _was_ the title. I have thought of a better one by now, really! Oh no, you don't! *grabs Trin* No sharing body heat, understood? Really, you people... *glares at Trin* No, it is NOT a grey hair, you hear men? It's not! *gived her the _look_* You're evil... *g*  
CrazyLOTRfan - No, indeed I did NOT kill Legolas, although I have to admit that I was tempted to for a moment or two. Self-preservation stopped me in the end... *g* See? Here's the next cliffy, and chapter 11 has one as well! Yay!  
Alisha - *mouth hangs open* Well, I guess you're the only person here who actually _wants_ me to kill Celylith! And what about a dog? You could simply get aour Nólad-clone a dog to keep him company! And you still have your guinea pig, haven't you? You're right, it was very lucky that Legolas is an elf, or otherwise he really might have suffered a little brain damage. Or perhaps he has? *shrugs* With him you never know... You're right again! Scroll-wheel-less mice are a horror! *g*  
Alexa - I am not mad! I am merely evil, that's a difference! Great you still like it though, even though the story's a bit weird ... or mad ... or insane. Whichever suits you best. *g*  
Stacee Phelps - Well, I really hope I won't do anything that will get me to face a friendly judge - althought I wouldn't count on it. They might have passed a law against cliffies or something! *g* Thanks a lot for the review!  
Fliewatuet - Well, and he got rescued! That is another good thing that happened to him, isn't it? Thanks for the birthday wishes and: Don't you like cliffies? I really have no idea why - they are soooo much fun! Mhahahaha! *runs off cackling evilly*  
Jenny - *nods* There you're right - cold water can hurt an awful lot! But you know I would never harm him - permanetly, don't you? I may be evil, but I'm not insane! *g* Thanks for reviewing!  
Arwen-Evenstar - Well, yes, Aragorn is going to get into a whole lot of trouble - he is very good at that, isn't he? *shakes head* Reckless human, that one... *huggles her* Thanks for all the great reviews! They really help me - a lot!  
Nilbrethiliel - Bei uns ist es gar nicht so heiss, die letzten paar Tage warne eigentlich mit ca. 20 °C ziemlich kuehl! Schroedingergleichung? Hoert sich ja gefaehrlich an... *g* *starrt mit grossen Augen* Nun, wenn du meinst ... freut mich doch, dass du die Fruendschafts-Szenen so magst! Oh, und so was hat mit Einzelkind oder nicht nichts zu tun! Meine Geschwister sind ganz sicher nicht so, glaub mir! LOL, also ist Celylith IN deinem Bett? Dann lass das mal lieber nicht Zam hoeren... Den Spruch kenne und liebe ich natuerlich auch! 'Und aus dem Chaoes sprach eine Stimme zu mir...' *g*  
Amelie - *bliushes* Great you like it so much! I really hope this was fast enough! Thanks a lot for the review!  
Ciria - WOW! Such a long review! Thanks! *huggles her* Glad you're back - although I understand your reasons for not reviewing, of course. Yup, LOTR is dubbed here as well, if you watch it in a normal cinema. I always go to watch it in the original version in English because I really can't stand the German version - it's so silly! LOL, I can certainly imagine Celylith caring for a baby orc! Hey, nice idea, I might use that somewhere... About the language thing: I'm not really certain. I would imagine that he learnt Westron from his parents and then Elvish when he was brought to Rivendell. But I imagine he would have forgotten much of the Common Tongue after a while (besides, how well can you speak with 2 years?). Well, I hope you have lots of fun wherever you're going! Thanks!  
LeggyLover03 - Well, we will have Aragorn pain in chapter 11, I think. So only one more chapter! Thanks for the review!  
Marbienl - *hangs head* I know, I know! I will send you a review for that last chapter, never fear, it just might take me some time... Well, school isn't out here, we still have three more weeks to go! *sighs* Great. And no, Aragorn will not catch a cold or anything - once again, too easy. Believe me, it can get much, much worse than that... *g* Sure I have read TMAATB! It's so funny and I really hope TiO updates soon! *glares darkly at Miki* You listening? Thanks a lot for this looooong review! *huggles Marbienl*   
One15 - One! Toll, dich mal wieder zu sehen! Ich dachte schon fast, ich haette irgendetwas geschrieben, dass dir uebelst missfallen hat! *g* Genau, ich haette Legolas NIE so sterben lassen! Ich meine, ich will ja auch noch ein bisschen leben, und das waere ja reiner Selbstmord, nech? Es gibt so viele Legolas Fans, da waere das ja einfach nur daemlich! Vielen Dank fuer die review, und die Geburtstagswuensche natuerlich!  
Anya - *not very impressed* I have a pet balrog myself, so you'll forgive me if I'm not properly intimidated, okay? His name's Stan, and he protects me from plot bunnies and overzealous readers... *g* I still hope this is soon enough for you? Don't worry, Aragorn torture is coming up soon, and thanks a lot for reviewing!  
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** ***grins insanely at reviewers* Thankssss, reviewerssss, thank yousss verysss much! We lovesss reviewsss, we doesss, precious... *hits herself again* Just ignore that, will you? Thanks a lot for the lovely reviews!**  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	11. Look Into the Abyss

**Disclaimer: **For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.  
  
  
**A/N:  
  
*ducks head* Yes, you're right, Aragorn _was_ behaving kind of stupid, I'll give you that. But - once again - he wasn't really thinking clearly because he was ****still ****so angry about the attack on Legolas and all that nearly-drowning-bit and so on - so anger does that to you... *g*  
Besides: Let's face it, it was a wonderful pretence for some Estel torture, wasn't it?  
  
That being the word of the day, I have to announce that this chapter is starting the part of the story for which the whole thing has been rated PG-13, so if you're younger than 13 *gives everybody stern looks* you should leave, now, or I will send my balrog after you.** **This is only the second torture scene I have ever written, and while it certainly won't be the last in this fic, I still have little experiece with this whole business, so if you think it should have a different rating (which I don't believe, so calm down - especially you, Lina! *g*), then please tell me and I will gladly change it.  
  
  
Okay, so here we go, as mentioned we have a little bit of Estel torture (which I - contrary to popular belief - did NOT enjoy writing!** **I hate writing torture!), lots of Legolas angst, we meet some people of the 'third group' and find out who that mysterious girl is and what she wants. Plus, it's a cliffy, great, huh? *evil grin*  
  
  
Enjoy and review, please!** **I need your opinion on the torture bits, I _really_ find that hard to write.**  
  
  
  


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Chapter 11  
  
  
"He did _what_?" Legolas all but yelled at the cowering servant that was very obviously wishing to be far, very far away from here and this elf that was attempting to bore holes into him with his eyes.  
  
"I am sorry, Lord Legolas," the man said, risking a quick glance at the elf in front of him. Next to the elf stood the other one and the young Master Seobryn, who looked as if he was contemplating running away as well. "Mr. Strider told me to tell you that he would be back in a minute. He recognised someone outside, he said. That was a few minutes ago."  
  
The fair haired elf hissed something in his native tongue that didn't sound complimentary at all, and the man used this opportunity to make a tactic retreat. He had delivered the ranger's message, and his duties did not include letting himself be ripped to pieces by his Master's guests.  
  
Legolas looked at the sitting room door in which the unknown girl waited with Seveawen as company, obviously torn.  
  
"Legolas?" Celylith questioned softly, but his voice was taut with tension. "There is something wrong, I can feel it. We need to see if he's alright."  
  
"He is not," Legolas ground out between clenched teeth and quickly turned to look at Seobryn. "Tell her we will be there in ten minutes."  
  
"Wait!" the young man called after the two departing elves. "What shall I tell her? Where are you going?"  
  
The two fair beings did not answer, and Seobryn was left to stare after them, shaking his head in exasperation.  
'Elves,' he thought as he turned back to the door, in truth not that disappointed that he had to spend some time alone with Seveawen and the strange girl. How Strider managed to stand them all the time was a mystery to him though. But then again, the ranger was so much of an elf himself that he probably didn't even notice their strangeness anymore.  
  
At the front door, the two elves were just quickly grabbing their cloaks, when Celylith asked,  
  
"He is not alright?"  
  
"No," Legolas shook his head and opened the door, "No, he is not, I know it. But even if he were, he wouldn't be for long, because I am going to kill him for this foolishness once I find him. Going after someone alone in a town where every other man seems to want to kill us! Honestly, how he ever lived this long I will never understand."  
  
The two elves quickly picked up the trail the young human had left behind and followed it over to the small, narrow catwalk that branched off the main bridge, the space overshadowed by towering houses on either side. In here it was pitch black, but their elven eyes had little trouble surveying their surroundings.   
  
They had hardly taken more than a few steps into the alley when the tracks changed and a new set appeared, judging from the form and depth of the footprints that of a man who had apparently hidden himself in a small convexity on the right side. The tracks intermingled with each other, and the elves' faces darkened when they quickly saw that a fight had taken place. They took another two or three steps forwards, and suddenly Legolas gave a small cry and rushed forwards, dropping to his knees next to an object that was almost buried under a small snowdrift.  
  
Celylith's mouth went dry when he recognised what it was that Legolas held in his hands: Aragorn's sword. He swallowed hard. There was no way the ranger had been leaving that sword behind just like that. During a watch the young man had once told him that the twins had given it to him on his twentieth birthday, the first real weapon of his own. Aragorn would never just leave one of his brothers' gifts behind.  
  
He knelt down next to his prince, keen eyes studying the faint impressions that could be seen on the snow covered ground.  
"Someone lay here," he told Legolas in a voice that sounded choked even to his own ears.   
  
His eyes spied something else, close to the wall of the house in front of them, and he reached out to touch it. When he withdrew his hand, a dark crimson substance coloured his fingers an alarming red.  
  
"Aragorn," Legolas whispered to his right, the prince's hands grasping his friend's discarded weapon so tightly that the white knuckles showed through the pale skin, silver-blue eyes staring unblinkingly at the red liquid that covered his elven friend's fingers. "They took him."  
  
Celylith grimaced. How did Estel do this, he asked himself inwardly. He knew no other (except perhaps Legolas, of course) who managed to get himself into potentially lethal situations with such an amazing frequency.   
  
"We don't know that," he tried to calm his friend. "Perhaps he followed them and the blood is not his."  
  
"And then he left his sword behind?" Legolas asked incredulously, eyes huge and lifeless in his pale face, the abrasion on the side of his head contrasting starkly against the pallor of his skin. "He would never leave it behind, you know that."  
  
"Aye, my lord," Celylith whispered and lowered his head. "I do know. But we can hope."   
  
Legolas slowly got to his feet, grasping Aragorn's sword tightly to his chest.  
"You are right, Celylith," he said, giving the other elf a strained smile. "You are just like Aragorn, always hoping. Your parents should have named you Estel as well."  
  
"Nay, my friend," Celylith shook his head as he walked up to his prince, his eyes on the ground to look for any indication of a track that would lead them to their missing companion. "Nay, I prefer my own name. This way I won't get confused with a filthy human."  
  
Legolas smiled again, his eyes lighting up shortly.  
"That would be most tragic indeed." He turned serious again and nodded at the silver haired elf. "Let us find that filthy human then. I have some things I would very much like to discuss with him."  
  
The other returned the nod, and together they made their way down the catwalk, trying to find out where their friend had disappeared to.  
  
  
  
  
An hour later, two very annoyed, frustrated, anxious and wet elves returned to Owaeran's house, their expressions so dark and forbidding that every sensible person gave them a wide berth and didn't even think about asking them if they had found the ranger.  
  
The answer to that question was as visible as if it had been etched into their foreheads: No, they hadn't found him.  
  
They hadn't found a trace, had found nothing, absolutely nothing. To follow tracks in a city as busy and big as Lake-town was nearly impossible, as they had soon found out. Aragorn was gone and they had no idea where he had been taken.  
  
Legolas just stood in the hallway, his head pounding, his ribs aching and his heart nearly breaking in his chest. He couldn't believe this, he just couldn't. Why was this always happening to him? Why couldn't he protect his friends? What was _wrong_ with him?  
  
A slender hand was placed on his shoulder.  
"It is not your fault, Legolas," Celylith told him softly in Elvish. "You could not have known. We will find him. It won't end like the last time, I promise."  
  
The elven prince just looked at him with vacant eyes before turning and purposefully making his way down the corridor and into the direction of Owaeran's study. Celylith followed silently, trying to banish Lord Elrond's face from his thoughts. O the Valar, what would the Lord of Imladris say if he heard that…  
  
'No. Don't think of that,' he told himself quickly. 'Do not think of him. Or the twins, or Lord Glorfindel.'   
  
Lord Glorfindel! Elbereth, he would have a balrog slayer out there for his blood…  
  
They stopped shortly to ask a servant for directions, and the man led them to his Master's study, fervently avoiding eye contact with the two elves. Since Legolas seemed to be rather averse to civilised conversation, Celylith thanked the man and dismissed him, and the servant disappeared out of their view so quickly that the silver haired elf could have sworn that he possessed some elven blood.  
  
Legolas didn't even bother with knocking but simply opened the dark wooden door, causing a startled Owaeran to look up from his papers.  
  
"Master Legolas!" he exclaimed. "And Master Celylith too! I didn't know you were back! Please, do come in!" He stood up and motioned the two elves to step closer, but frowned and narrowed his eyes when he saw the dark expressions on their faces. "What happened? Where is Mr. Strider?"  
  
"Tell me about your competitor," Legolas demanded, apparently not even having heard what the man had said. "Tell me everything, where he has his warehouses, shops, things like that."  
  
"Why?" Owaeran asked, confusion plain to see on his face. "Of course I will tell you, but what happened?"  
  
Legolas finally seemed to snap out of the trance he had spent the past half-hour in, and the let himself sink onto one of the chairs in front of the trader's desk.  
"Strider is gone."  
  
"Gone?" the elderly man asked, running a hand through his greying hair with a nervous move. "What do you mean, gone?"  
  
"We think he was knocked unconscious and taken somewhere," Celylith explained before his friend could snap at the human. "We found his sword not far from here. There was a scuffle, we think, and he lost. We don't know where he has been taken."  
  
"Great Ones," the trader mumbled and sank down heavily onto his chair as well. "I am so sorry, I did never mean for any of this to happen…"  
  
"We know," Celylith assured the man, eyeing his elven friend warily whose fingers were beginning to twitch slightly with impatience and frustration. "Tell us where they could have taken him, and we will go and bring him back."  
  
"You think my competitor and the 'Fox' are behind this?" Owaeran asked, his face pale.  
  
"Who else?" Legolas asked tensely, glaring darkly at the man. Every second this human wasted with talking was one second more that Aragorn was in the hands of these people.  
  
"I don't know," the trade admitted hopelessly. "How many men were involved?"  
  
"Two or three," Legolas answered, exasperation beginning to colour his words. How could this be important? "They surprised him."  
  
The man shook his head, a frown on his face.  
"That doesn't sound like the 'Fox' at all. You have seen him, he likes to rely on brute strength. He wouldn't go anywhere near a ranger without at least five of his men."  
  
"Well, apparently, he has," Legolas pointed out, his usually calm composure beginning to slowly but surely abandon him. "We won't help him if we keep stating the obvious. Where would they have taken him?"  
  
Owaeran seemed to think hard for a second.  
"He has a few warehouses on the southern islands," he finally stated. "They are quite isolated, and the only places I can think of that would serve for such a thing. You can recognise them by signs with crossed swords on them. It's his crest."  
  
"Very well," the elven prince said and rose to his feet. "We will be back in a few hours."  
  
He turned and walked out of the door, Celylith on his heels. Owaeran looked after them a few speechless seconds before he rushed after them.  
  
"Wait! My lords, you cannot just walk in there! This is folly!"  
  
Legolas stopped and turned, fixing burning silver-blue eyes on the man.  
"Perhaps," he nodded. "Perhaps you're right and it is folly. But I will not leave my friend in the hands of such … men so they can do whatever they want to him! I – will – not! Not again."  
  
Owaeran frowned in confusion. Why 'again'? The look on the prince's face however stopped all questions he might have asked in the very beginning. He shook his head and hurried after the two elves who had taken up their walk again, deciding in a split second to charge King Thranduil double the next time he did business with him. These elves were taking years off his life.  
  
"Please, my lord, wait! I have a few men of my own who are able with a blade. We would accompany you. Wait but an hour and I will have a dozen men here!"  
  
"An hour?" Legolas asked, already throwing his cloak over his shoulders. "An hour is far too long, Master Owaeran. It is an hour Strider does not have."  
  
The trader stared at the fair haired elf, cursing inwardly. There was no doubt that this one was the woodking's son, he thought dryly, he was just as stubborn…  
  
A soft voice behind them spared the trader an answer.  
  
"Excuse me, Master Owaeran, sirs, but the lady is still waiting," Seobryn stated, making a nervous gesture behind him where two girls stood. One of them was Seveawen, Owaeran's blonde daughter, the other a young woman of about twenty years of age. She wasn't exactly a beauty, but there was something definitely appealing in her candid face and brown eyes.  
  
Legolas gave a small bow, one hand already on the door handle.  
"I am sorry, my lady, but we have urgent business to attend to. If you would perhaps give us an address where we can find you, and we will gladly visit you tomorrow. I am sure Master Owaeran will provide you with an escort home."  
  
The girl swallowed, eyes filled with awe at the two fair beings in front of her.  
"I am sorry, Master Elf," she said bravely, lifting her chin, "But it is very important that I speak to you. It is about…"  
  
The fair haired elf gave an impatient shake of his head. Why was he stuck here with the only humans that apparently didn't understand that he needed to leave, _now_? He would _not_ leave Aragorn to suffer from such ill treatment again, not for a second time in less than three months.  
  
"As I said, we do not have time for this now. I am sorry. Master Owaeran, we will be back in a few hours, with Strider, if Elbereth smiles on us. The 'Fox's' luck will run out tonight."  
  
He opened the door and was about to step out when the girl pressed forward, shoving Seobryn aside.  
  
"He is not the one holding the ranger!" she all but yelled. "He has nothing to do with this! I heard them talking about it, 'tis what I have been trying to tell you the whole time…"  
  
Legolas turned around slowly, eyes studying the young woman closely. He closed the door again and gave the girl a small nod.  
  
"You have my undivided attention, lady."  
  
  
  
  
A few minutes later, they were all gathered in the library, a rather large, dark room with countless shelves made of dark brown wood. Legolas didn't even attempt to sit down, knowing full well that he wouldn't be able to sit still for more than three seconds.  
When he was in this state of mind not even his father was able to make him sit still for longer than five seconds. Five were his record, actually.  
  
Legolas walked over to the fireplace and stared into the flames until the humans had settled down. Watching the dancing flames, he tried to calm his racing thoughts. If the 'Fox' hadn't ambushed Estel, then who had? Who else could be interested in them?  
  
Forcefully regaining control over himself, he balled his hands into tight fists and turned around. Owaeran, Seveawen and Misien who had joined them as well sat on the one side of the library, Seobryn and Celylith more to the left and the unknown girl somewhat in the middle, almost disappearing in a large stuffy armchair.  
  
After a few minutes of silence she lifted her head, fear and pain visible in her eyes, but those emotions were overshadowed by something else: A fierce determination, a determination that apparently gave her the strength to open her mouth and speak.  
  
"I am so very sorry for all of this," she finally said, casting her eyes to the floor once more. "I don't even know where to start."  
  
"Your name would be a good point, dear," Misien said softly, giving her a small smile.  
  
The girl looked up again with wide eyes that reminded Legolas somewhat of a trapped animal.  
"Nyssa," she said softly, "My name is Nyssa. I work as a chambermaid in the inn next to the "Empty Tankard" in the northern part of the town."  
  
The two elves traded a quick look. The "Empty Tankard", the tavern the 'Fox' frequented according to Tellyn, the man who worked at the docks. This was more than a coincidence.  
  
"Please, lady," Legolas said, trying hard to get his anxiety and impatience under control, "Tell me who has taken my friend if it wasn't 'the Fox'."  
  
Nyssa took a look at the fair haired elf that stood in front of the fire and gave her a look so intense with worry and emotional turmoil that she had to avert her eyes after a heartbeat or two.  
  
"As I said," she said tonelessly, "I work as a chambermaid in the inn. The 'Fox' and his men are there often as well, and I hear what they're talking about. Yesterday night they came to the tavern, battered and cursing, and talked about two elves and a man that had to be a ranger who had escaped them. They were very angry that their employer had forbidden them to go after them again." She looked at Celylith and Legolas. "After you."  
  
"They could have done so anyway," Owaeran said, his eyes hard. "These are vengeful people, and if they think their 'honour' to be in question, I have no doubt that they would disobey any order."  
  
Legolas nodded in agreement. That was exactly what he was thinking, everything else didn't make sense. Who else would want to capture Aragorn?  
  
"But it is not so," the girl insisted, her voice rising for the first time. "There is more."  
  
"Yes?" Celylith prompted as gently as possible.  
  
"Today I overheard a conversation while I was serving in the tavern. Sometimes I do that, when a barmaid takes ill or something like that. I was just returning to the kitchens with some plates when I passed a table that is hidden behind a partition wall made of wood. It looks like a solid wall, but it isn't, and so I was able to hear what two men I have never seen before were saying on my way to the kitchens. They were talking about, what were their words … yes, 'snatching' one of you and then 'persuading' this person to tell them why you were here and why the Elvenking was interested in this."  
  
Legolas frowned, eyes burning with fury. How dare these people…  
  
"Why did you listen to them in the first place?" Celylith asked, appearing a lot calmer than he actually was.  
  
Nyssa lowered her head, her voice almost inaudible when she answered.  
"I recognised a name."  
  
"Which name, dear?" Misien asked kindly, but her face was serious.  
  
The younger woman took a deep breath.  
"Drabo," she finally whispered. "They talked about how they had killed him and thrown him into the lake." She looked up and met their shocked glances evenly. "He was my ... lover, for a lack of better term, and while he never promised to marry me, I still loved him. I will not let them get away with this. I want to see them pay for what they've done to him, to us."  
  
Legolas leaned back against the mantelpiece, trying to organise his thoughts. So Aragorn had been right and there _was_ a third group at work here, and by the looks of it, a brutal, ruthless group that stopped at nothing to attain their goals.  
  
'Dear Elbereth, why does this always happen to us?'  
  
"So there are three groups that apparently want the same thing," Owaeran mused absent-mindedly. "My brother and his friends, Drabo being one of them, my competitor and the 'Fox', and these people."  
  
"Drabo probably told his friend the 'Fox' something he shouldn't have, and now he and his men are after it as well," Celylith agreed, nodding in thought. "And somehow the third group found out that he knew something and…"   
  
The silver haired elf didn't finish the sentence, shooting the girl that was looking at her hands again a pitiful look.  
  
"But what is this all about?" Seobryn asked, obviously more than a little bit confused.  
  
"I don't know," Legolas said quietly, eyes fixed on the floor, studying the dark wooden boards. "We will ask the 'Fox', but that can wait."  
  
He looked up, and the humans almost shrunk away from the emotions that swirled in the elf's silver-blue eyes.  
  
"Tell me, Nyssa," he said, turning to the girl, "Tell me where they have taken the ranger. We will not let them get away with another murder, I promise you that."  
  
The young woman nodded, her eyes dark and sad.  
"I know, Master Elf. That is why I came; I do not want to see another man die because of what Drabo was involved in. I do not know exactly where they are, but I will tell you all I know."  
  
She began to speak, and half an hour later a group of eight people left the house and quickly made their way South-West.  
  
  
  
  
Slowly, ever so slowly Aragorn's consciousness decided to grace his body with its presence once more, but that wasn't something the young ranger was particularly happy about because he had learnt something.  
  
Even though several people, most prominently his brothers, claimed that he was too thick-headed to actually learn, it was not true.   
If he had learnt anything at all in the past two years, it was that when you were feeling as if a middle sized mountain had fallen on you, then you had been dug out by a horde of _teryg_ and been beaten with an ugly stick before they decided to sit on your head, you didn't want to wake up properly.   
  
It took him several seconds to remember the Westron word for _teryg_. It was always a sign that he had suffered a bad blow to the head if he couldn't remember the Common equivalents to Elvish words.  
  
But no, he decided, it was always better to remain in the realm of unconsciousness than to return to reality to actually meet the people who were responsible for you current condition, Aragorn decided fuzzily and tried to drift back into darkness, but he wasn't able to lose consciousness again, a fact that greatly annoyed him.  
  
'Helmet,' another thought drifted through his befuddled brain, 'I should have listened to Elrohir and worn a helmet.'  
  
While they had been escorting his brothers and father westwards on the day they had left, Elrohir had suggested that Aragorn wore an iron helmet to prevent him from getting knocked unconscious all the time. At that time, he had only scowled at his laughing elven brother, but right now that his head felt as if someone had chopped it into tiny little pieces and had reassembled it not entirely the correct way, he was seriously regretting not having listened to his older brother.  
  
"He's awake," a far too loud voice to his right said, and a hand roughly grasped his chin and pulled his head up. That movement served to chase away the last cloudy shreds of unconsciousness, but the blinding pain in his head only intensified.  
  
Aragorn had to bite back a moan. Whoever these men were, they definitely hadn't much experience with knocking people unconscious. If they weren't a bit more careful, he would pass out again before he had even properly woken up.  
'Of course they haven't,' a voice in his head told him, 'They probably don't bother knocking people unconscious so often. Killing is usually a lot easier.'  
  
Thanking the part of his brain that had provided that useful little information and enabled him to view his current situation in such an encouraging light, he struggled to open his eyes as he tried to determine where exactly he was.  
  
While he was still attempting to persuade his eyelids that opening wouldn't aggravate his aching head – which was a lie, and both he and his eyelids knew that – he found out that he was lying on something hard and cold, that his cloak had apparently been taken from him, just as his weapons, he suspected, and that his hands were bound behind his back. His shirt seemed to be open, probably after someone had searched him for weapons.  
  
Panic started to wrap itself around his heart. Not again, he thought wildly, please, he couldn't do all this again, not so soon…   
  
He forced himself to take slow, even breaths. Panic wouldn't help him now, he needed to focus if he wanted to get out of here. Besides, it wouldn't be like the last time, Donyc was dead, Legolas had killed him, he was dead, dead, dead…  
  
Finally the young man managed to pry his eyes open, and after a few moments during which Aragorn could have sworn that his brain tried to force its way through his forehead, the world slowly swam into focus and he looked at a … boot?  
  
He blinked twice, yes, it was definitely a boot. Suddenly, two hands appeared and grasped the front of his tunic, dragging him up and to his feet. This time he couldn't suppress a small moan of pain as his head protested violently against such quick movements and he hurriedly closed his eyes, silently counting to ten as he waited for the nausea to die down. Again a hand grasped his chin, and he opened his eyes again to glare at the blonde man he had seen on the catwalk earlier today – it was still the the same day, wasn't it?  
  
Aragorn quickly looked around the dark room, deciding in an instant that he was in an abandoned warehouse or factory or something like that. Somewhere close by he could hear softly lapping water, but that could be heard virtually everywhere in Lake-town. But judging by the inky darkness, it was really the same evening, for he really did not think that he had been unconscious for more than eighteen hours.  
  
The man grinned at him, and the person that stood behind him and was keeping him upright tightened his grip on him.  
  
"Woken up, ranger?" he asked pleasantly, and Aragorn resisted the urge to make a sarcastic comment that just couldn't be conducive to his current situation.  
  
He swallowed twice and asked, as strongly as he could,  
  
"What do you want? Who are you? I do not know you."  
  
The man began to grin even more broadly, sending a shiver of fear down the younger human's back. This was not good, not good at all…  
  
"No, you wouldn't," he answered, stepping a bit closer to his captive. "My name is Lomar, not that it'd matter to you anyway. But we know a bit about you, my friend. For example that you keep company with elves and that you are entirely too interested in the good Master Gwemyr, the 'Fox' and their activities. And there, boy, lies the problem."  
  
Aragorn just stared at the man, his mind reeling. So this wasn't one of the 'Fox's' men? Then who was he?   
  
"Why are you interested in what I do and whose company I keep?" he asked icily, narrowing his eyes at the man.  
  
"Oh," the older human chuckled, "We are interested in many things. Especially in these though. So, ranger, why don't _you_ answer a few simple questions first? What do you know? More importantly, what do your elven friends know? What are you doing here? Who talked to you?"  
  
The young ranger gave him a confused look. Even if he had felt any inclination to answer these questions, which he didn't, by the way, he had no idea what he should tell the man.  
  
"Know?" he asked, trying to stall. "What do you mean? We are merely looking for Gwem…"  
  
While he was still talking, Lomar had simply given him a lenient smile and had nodded at someone to Aragorn's right. Before the young man had even time to turn his head, a fist came out of nowhere and connected with his midsection, driving all the air out of his lungs.  
  
The only thing that prevented him from falling to the ground were the arms that still gripped his shoulders, and so he hung limply in the man's grip, gasping for air. A detached part of his brain noted that there were at least three men here then, but right now he was far too busy trying to breathe to really care. After a few seconds the blonde man stepped closer again, the annoying smile still on his face.  
  
"That was not a very clever idea, ranger," he said evenly, looking at his captive's pale face. "I ask again, who has talked to you?"  
  
Aragorn simply closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath, and therefore didn't see the next blow coming that connected with a sickening crack with the side of his chest. The young ranger groaned softly and tried to curl himself up, but the hands that held him prevented any such action.   
  
After a moment a hand grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head up, and Aragorn decided to ask someone very wise in the near future why people delighted in doing that after knocking him on the head without obvious reason. Perhaps his father or the Lady Galadriel. Even Glorfindel might know.  
  
The man looked at him with amusement in his eyes.  
"You should reconsider your attitude, boy," he said, pulling the dark head up a bit more. "Stubbornness will get you nowhere, and I assure you that we can go on like this forever. And believe me, we will have a lot more fun than you."  
  
Aragorn shook his head when the man released his hair and winced as pain flared to life in his skull.  
"We didn't talk to anyone."  
  
The man in front of him only smiled and nodded at the invisible man behind and to the right of him, and another blow hit him in the side, making him expel what little air he had managed to gather.  
  
This went on for quite some time, perhaps ten or fifteen minutes, although it felt definitely a lot longer to the young ranger. It soon became a kind of routine: Lomar would ask a question, Aragorn would shake his head and a fist would connect with his torso or face. In fact, once that he knew what to expect, Aragorn did his best to roll with the force of the blows and to somehow deflect them, with mediocre success however since the man behind him held him tightly.   
  
All in all, it wasn't the worst beating he had ever been through, but still, the sooner he could make them knock him a little too hard on the head so he could lose consciousness again and escape the pain, the better. All this only served to bring back memories he would rather forget.  
  
A blow to his already wounded temple brought him close to that goal, and while he was teetering on the brink of unconsciousness, he felt the hands release him and he fell to the ground in a crumpled heap, unable to break his fall.  
  
The blonde man gave the semi-conscious ranger an emotionless look.  
"This is taking too long," he told the man that had been holding the captive in place. "He won't break as easily as the late Drabo, I fear. I think you should go now and inform the captain."  
  
The other man nodded slowly, eyes fixed on the young human.  
"I think you're right. It's apparently true what they say about rangers." He shot the other two men that were leaning against the wall close to their captive a quick glance. "Will you be alright?"  
  
His companion nodded curtly.  
"We have paid them well, they will do as I ask. You need to inform Adruran of the elves, there could be some on their way to them already. Once I have found out what he knows I will follow you."  
  
The other man returned the nod.  
"Have fun then," he said with an evil smile and made his way over to the back door, soundlessly disappearing into the night.  
  
Lomar watched his companion leave and turned back to the figure on the floor. Even though his captain did not really approve of things like this, he still liked it. The power, that was what it was all about. He really, really liked that feeling.  
This was going to be interesting; he was really curious how long a ranger would last. They were a lot harder to kill – or break – than other humans, or so he had heard…  
  
He gave the two other a sign and they bent down and dragged the dark haired man to his feet. He was obviously regaining his senses now, for he lifted his head and pierced his captor with a fierce stare that reached right into the other man's heart. The blonde man hesitated a moment. He had never before seen a human with such silver eyes, and if he hadn't known better he would have thought an icy shudder had raced down his back…  
  
He shook his head quickly and mentally berated himself for his thoughts. Why would he be afraid of a single bound man? This one was neither in the condition nor in the position to harm him; it wasn't as if he was part elf or something…  
  
The man stepped closer and grabbed the ranger's upper arm, raising an eyebrow when he saw pain flash across the other's face.  
"Well, ranger, my friend had to leave, but do not concern yourself with that. We have other things to do."  
  
He tightened his grip on the younger man and dragged him across the room, turning shortly to look at one of the men.  
"You stay here at the door to make sure we don't get any visitors."  
  
The man nodded and settled down close to the door, his sword lying across his lap.  
  
The other two men proceeded in dragging Aragorn further into the warehouse, making the young man wonder not for the first time what it was about him that attracted such situations. He just couldn't understand why every other person insisted on knocking him around, he mused and suppressed a moan when the blonde man gripped his injured upper arm more tightly. Finally, they stopped, and he looked up, only to instantly wish that he hadn't.  
  
In front of him were two large pipes that ran across the whole length of the room they had just entered, approximately two feet in diameter and cutting through the room at a height of about five feet. This was apparently not only a warehouse, but some sort of abandoned factory as well, he thought.  
  
While he was usually not very frightened by pipes of any kind, these ones were slightly different. They were made of copper and had once probably gleamed in the lights of the now dark lamps that hung below the ceiling, but now they were dark, dusty, rather dirty and … leaking.  
  
Had they been filled with water or something like that Aragorn would have thought this fact to be cause of little alarm, but these pipes obviously carried hot steam from one part of the building to the next. Aragorn suspected that they just ran through the entire length of the building and that the steam was in fact still used in one of the building on either side of this one. The young ranger gulped silently. There were several rather large tears in the metal pipes, and hot steam was escaping with a sizzling noise in a constant stream.  
  
Lomar grinned and dragged his captive closer to the pipes.  
  
"Have you ever burnt yourself while boiling water?" he asked the dark haired ranger with an evil grin. "It's amazing how much something like steam can hurt, isn't it?"  
  
Aragorn didn't answer, eyes fixed on the pipes. Of course he had burned himself as a child, just like most youngsters did, be they elven, human, hobbit or otherwise. But since he, as Elrond still claimed smiling, never did anything halfway, he had not only burnt his fingers, but his entire right arm, almost giving the cook who had beeen supervising him a heart attack, something which the elf still hadn't forgiven him.  
  
Only with his father's skill had the burns healed without leaving permanent marks, and he could still remember how much they had hurt. He quickly pushed down theses memories again. He would not think of that now, he would _not_…  
  
Suddenly, Donyc's face appeared in his mind's eye, sneering at him as the human commander that had captured him a few months ago had done so often. Dark memories of pain and fear and helplessness resurfaced, and he felt his panic go up yet another notch. Elbereth, it was happening again, just like the last time, and he was once again powerless to do anything…  
  
He was trying to resist, but the two men dragged him ever closed to the broken pipes. What kind of normal person saw a steaming pipe and remembered to use it for torturing someone later, he thought to himself, trying to keep his mind off his predicament. That was nothing less than sick.  
  
'O Ilúvatar,' he thought desperately, 'Legolas, now would be a good time indeed for a dramatic entrance, _mellonamin_…'  
  
They had stopped in front of the largest rip now, and Aragorn absent-mindedly studied the bent metal, wondering what had caused the gash. It wasn't such a bad damage, the smith in Rivendell would be able to repair that in a second…  
  
"Last chance, ranger," Lomar said, gripping one of the younger man's bound arms tightly. "Tell me who has sent you here, and we will continue this conversation somewhere else."  
  
A numbing hopelessness spread through the young human. There was nothing he could say that would satisfy this man, he realised. He didn't _know_ anything he could tell him, even if he had wanted to.  
  
"No-one," he shook his head exhaustedly. "No-one sent us. I do not even know what you're talking about."  
  
The man gave a sound of mock dismay and shook his head, and before Aragorn had time to prepare himself for what was to come, two pairs of hands gripped his arms tightly and pushed him forwards.  
  
The only thing he thought in the split second between entering the incredible heat and the beginning of the pain was that this must be what crayfish had to feel like when being cooked. He and his elven brothers quite often searched the banks of the Bruinen for those savoury little animals, and as a child he had always tried to find more than Elladan or Elrohir. Up until now, however, he had been unable to imagine what being thrown into a pot of boiling water felt like.  
  
In a matter of seconds that changed though. The steam discharged diagonally from right to left, and so only his left side got caught in the heat, something which was more than enough, he though.  
  
Aragorn couldn't stifle a cry when the sharp, biting pain washed over him, and even though he still wore his shirt, it felt as thought every single cell of the left side of his body was slowly being consumed by a searing heat. His body trembled and jerked and instinctively tried to pull back from the heat, but the hands in his back wouldn't let him, and so he was forced to remain standing in the steam, unable to escape the nauseating pain that was beginning to define his entire existence.  
  
Just when he thought that the Valar had finally shown mercy and granted him unconsciousness, he was pulled back and almost collapsed against his captors. Aragorn just kept his eyes closed, trying to take deep breaths past clenched teeth as he was trying to master the pain. Elbereth, this hurt so much more than he had remembered…  
  
The blonde man stepped slightly to the side so he could see the ranger's face whose back was now to the pipes.  
"Not convinced yet, boy?" he asked, amusement and something like grudging respect in his voice. He reached out and pulled the shirt aside, revealing red skin where the first blisters were already begin to form.  
  
He shook his head as he let the shirt fall back into place and reached out to grab the younger man's chin again.  
"Look at me, ranger," he demanded, and to his surprise the young man really opened his eyes, still giving him a fiery glare.  
  
Lomar stepped back and raised an eyebrow.  
"Do we have to repeat this? We can do this all night long if you want to," he said, looking for a sign of fear in the silver eyes, but if the flash he could briefly see was fear, then it was gone before he could really identify it.   
  
He traced a finger over the developing burns and raised the other brow as his captive's body stiffened under the painful touch and he tried to pull away.  
"Why do you do this?" he asked, finger still moving over the burns, "Is it because you want to protect the elves? Is that it?" He shook his head in disdain, giving the pain-filled face in front of him a disapproving glance. "They are not even of your kind, ranger, so why even bother?"  
  
He stepped a bit closer and hissed,  
  
"See? Where are they, your elves? Are they coming to rescue you? Why aren't they here?"  
  
Aragorn didn't even acknowledge his presence, and the other man stepped even closer, running his finger over a particularly nasty looking burn and giving a humourless smile when the younger man moaned softly in pain.  
  
"If I can't stand one thing, it is elves," Lomar told him softly, burrowing his fingers in the abused flesh of the young ranger's chest. "I can't stand them, and I like those who try to be their friends even less. As if you could ever be friends with creatures such as them! All they are interested in are the stars, or trees, or flowers. They won't even have noticed that you are gone!"  
  
He leaned forward a little until he was close to Aragorn's white face.  
"You see? You are on your own, ranger. Where are they now, your friends, the elves?"  
  
"Right behind you," a soft voice stated menacingly, and Lomar and the other man whirled around, only to lay eyes on the two angriest-looking elves they had ever seen.  
  
  
  
  
  
**TBC...  
  
  
  
  
  
** _teryg (pl. of torog) - troll_s  
_mellonamin - my friend_  
**  
  
  
  
** ***ducks behind her pet balrog Stan* Don't kill me! He's still alive, that's something, isn't it? Besides, it wasn't all MY fault, a part of it was _Cathy's_ (*points accusingly*) idea!** **She made me do it! Besides: You like it, just admit it! *looks at slowly advancing reades* Uhm, guys, come on, it wasn't THAT bad, was it ... You are taking things too seriously ... HELP! *****runs off to escape angry Aragorn fans* **  
***pokes head back in for a second* So, if you want the next part, review and I'll see what I can do! Please? Pretty please??  
  
  
  
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** **Additional A/N:  
  
**TrinityTheSheDevil - *looks at her carefully* You are insane, did I ever tell you that? But, see: Here's a whole chapter with Aragorn torture, just for you. 'Screaming like a man with a splinter in his foot'? You _are_ still kinda normal, aren't you? LOL, Estel's been rangernapped? You could say that, and the asnwer to your question is: A lot, and most of it rather uncomplimentary, I think... *g* So, now go back to staring at that poster, go on, shoo...   
Coreinha - *hangs head in shame* Okay, I admit it, I need therapy. But will it make you happier to know that Celylith annd Legolas are going to get their fair share of owies as well? I am nothing if not fair, you know... *g* But I don't think I would be able to do a 12 step program - too many! Aren't there any with three or four?  
Arwen-Evenstar - Great you liked the love poetry bit, it was a spontaneous thing. I hadn't planned it in the slightest. *innocently* You don't like cliffies? Why? THey are so much fun! *evil grin* Sorry, this is another one, there was nothing I could do - you know, my alter ego and all that... And you're right - eventually Legolas will be angry, once he is capable of thinking straight again - you know how mothering he can be... *g*  
Salara - Wohoo! Zwei reviews, na wer haette denn das gedacht... Du hast uerigens recht, Nólad-Klone sind ueberaus vielseitig... *g* Das mit dem Umzug ist eigene Geschichte, lass uns doch einfach sagen, dass ich wieder ausziehe, wenn ich einen Nachmieter finden sollte. Ist alles eine sehr lange, komplizierte und dumme Geschichte. *rot werd* Schoen, dass du die Szene mochtest! Ich habe so eine beste Freundin, die mir zwar noch nicht beinahe-ertrunken ist, aber was nicht ist, kann ja noch werden... *g* Und ja, ich gebe zu, dass Aragorn extrem dumm gehandelt hat, aber so sind sie nun mal, die jungen Maenner... Und bitte, erwaehne NIE WIEDER Walter von der Vogelweide! Ich musste so eins seiner _daemlichen_ Gedichte auf Mittelhochdeutsch auswendig lernen - ein Kindheitstrauma! LOL, Galadriel asl Pin-up-Lady? Das ist gut ... scary, aber gut ... *g* Und hey! Celylith war nie ein instabiler Faktor! Pah... *geht grummelnd weg*  
Seveawen/Miss Understood - Okay, now it's offcial: You're insane. You changed your NAME? That is definitely not normal, girl...*pats her back* Sure he loves you, hold on to that thought... Well, elves don't celebrate birthdays, they celebrate conception days, or so I've been told. But since that's the same (just a year later, since she-elves are pregnant for exactly a year), it doesn't really matter, does it... And yes, you DO need help. Urgently.  
Leggylover03 - *blushes* Thank you! Well, I already have the idea for a third story, but it all depends on how much time I have, and it's never enough, believe me... *g* Calm down, the pain's coming, honestly, you are such an impatient bunch... *g*  
Alex Mistress Squirrel - Okay, I have to admit that yours is one of the oddest screennames I have ever seen. That doesn't mean that I don't like it though... *g* Great you like this sequel, and don't worry, there ARE more chapters coming! Thanks for reviewing!  
Alilacia - *evil grin* And yet _another_ cliffy! I am so evil, don't tell me! LOL at the booklet! That's a really funny idea! I can just imagine that... *g* *grabs the back of her shirt* NO! Don't tear Owaeran limb from limb, I still need him! Well, the tatoo, yes, there probably IS a tatoo market somewhere, and all the bad guys go there... *g* Great you liked the love poem bit, it was rather a spontaneous thing, I never planned it. It just ... happened, like so many other things around here... And about Celylith: Let's just say that nothing will happen to him _yet_, okay? we still have lots of time for that... *evil grin*  
Mouse - Oh no, there will be bodies left ... or body parts ... whatever... *g* I'm glad you luke Celylith, I love him! *backs away quickly* Evee though he's Zam Kenobi's husband, of course...  
Cheryl W - Hey! I do not 'always' have torture in story for our dear ranger! You have to confuse me with someone else... *Cheryl points at last story* Ah, just a coincidence, really... Great you like it, despite (or because of?) the cliffies and the character torture! Thanks for the review!  
CrazyLOTRfan - 'Master of all things cliffy-like'? *evil grin* I like that! Thanks! *nods sadly* You're right, Aragorn's really beginning to make a habit out of being knocked unconscious - perhaps he needs therapy? No, I think _I_ need therapy... *g*   
One15 - Na ja, ich meine, singen wir nicht alle mal Liebeslieder? Nein? Auch wahr, aber das hier ist Mittelerde, nech? Tja, das mit meiner MUse ist mir auch nicht ganz klar. Diese ganze Liebeslieder-fuer-Seveawen-Legolas-singt-selbst-Geschichte war absolout spontan. Kein bisschen geplant, das kam einfach so, wie die meistten der Scherze u.ae. hier. Ich weiss auch nicht, woher... *knuddelt One* Danke fuer die review!  
Gwyn - I know, I know ... he's stupid, plain and simple... *g* Thanks for the review!  
Anya - NO! You wouldn't! Give me to *gulps* the ... the ... the readers? No, please, I beg your mercy! That would be evil! Cruel and unusual punishment, that's what it would be! *shakes head* You people and your Estel torture... Tsk tsk tsk...  
Asha Dreamweaver - *blushes furiously* Don't say that! You are giving me delusions of grandeur! But it sounds rather nicem thanks... *g* And yes, they really _can't_ stay out of trouble, can they? But hey, life would be very boring indeed for us FF-writers if they could, wouldn't it? LOL, I can just imagine it! They return to Mirkwood in several pieces, and Hithrawyn refuses to treat them... "No! It's your own fault! And now get out of my healing rooms and bleed somewhere else!" *g*  
XsilicaX - I know you're probably not going to read this since you're away, but what the heck, I'm still writing it. Great you liked that Seobryn scene, he can be quite cute indeed... Well, here it is now, the chapter that is _entirely_ YOUR fault! *evil grin* Hope you like it though! Have lots of fun on your little trip and come back soon or I will miss you! *huggles her* Oh, and... *looks around her, then whispers* Michael Schumacher is a mentally retarded toad! Mhahahaha! *runs off*  
Shadow Warrior - *nods sadly* Yes, it's been some time since last we met... *g* You like Aragorn torture then? Son't worry, there are LOTS of people like that here, so you're in good company... Well, he won't suffer from a second skull fracture, never fear, but there might be a tiny little concussion... *evil grin* I hope you'll like the rest as well, thanks for the review!  
Critternut - Well, to be honest I've been drinking (just once in a while of course! *g*) since I was 15, and that's rather late. But there are laws nobody really observes, and that is one of them ... besides, nobody really cares... *g* Uhm, that did kinda sound as if I were an alcoholic, which I am not. Okay? *g* Well, yes, what happens to Aragorn? A lot, my friend, and none of it overly pleasant... *g*  
Ciria - *huggles her baby orc* Thanks! It's adorable! Usually the dubbing here is quite good, but I've only read the books ib English and then the German terms (they even translater the names!) do sound very stupid... Of course Elrond is a better healer than Estel, but as you will remember, Rivendell is on the eastern side of the Misty Mountains, so he doesn't count. *giggles* No, Legolas is definitely _not_ innocent, but let us just ignore that, shall we? I hope you have lots of fun on your trip, and in August it may even be finished! You never know!  
Cestari - Arwen? *chokes* Definitely not! I really like her, but she's in Lothlórien, and she will stay there. Besides, Seobryn knows the difference between a girl and a she-elf and would have told them if it were Arwen... Uhm, who, me? Give them a break? Come on, be honest with yourself: Do you want me to? *g*  
Imbefaniel - *defensively* So what? My alter ego is quite nice, actually... Oh, yes, I think you could already start painting the 'Get well soon card'... He'll need it! LOL, put Aragorn on a leash? That's definitely a good idea... *g*  
Stacee Phelps - So you like Aragorn angst? Yes? Good, then this is the fic for you, 'cause there's much more to come.. *evil cackle* And I agree, he's kinda stupid, but then again, so are most men his age... *dark glare* Thanks for the review!  
Elladan - Hey! Nice to see you again! *huggles Elladan* Uhm, you'd better not tell the men in the white coats about this cliffy then ... I like this one very much ... am very proud of it... *pats Elladan's back* Don't worry! We're all insane here, welcome to the club! Thank you so much for all your kind words!  
Alexa - *nods* Yes, he is ... an idiot, I mean... And I think Legolas will be so happy to get the idiot back more or less in one piece that he will spare him most of the lecture. Uhm, about the growth thing: I guess you're right, kinda, 'cause I just realised it the second you told me. I hadn't planned that, it just happened. *shrugs* Such things happen all the time here... And don't worry, I won't kill Celylith - I think. Not yet, anyway... *g*  
Lina - *shakes head* Éomer and his Rohirrim aren't very good at tracking, are they? If they can't even find your tracks before you find the post... Pathetic, that's what it is... *g* 'Do not disrespect the sexiness of the ranger'? Uhm, Lina, I think you're losing it here, calm down... LOL, Lego-tard? How true... Eeek! *runs after Lina to escape angry Legolas fans* Uhm, you kinda lost me there, Lina. Why is that cliffy Seobryn's fault? He didn't do anything! And before you read this chapter, remember: This is not real. No rangers were harmed in the process of writing this fic. Really. *pointed look at Éomer* Stay.Calm. Don't kill me. Calm. Okay?  
Marbienl - Yup, I guess he was too exhausted to dream. Good thing too. Oh yes, my friend. It can _always_ get worse, and usually, it does. Just read on and you'll see what I mean... And no, you may NOT claim Estel. Celylith is my character, Estel's Tolkien's. Sad facts, I know, but true nonetheless. *sighs and pulls her back* DON'T slap Legolas, okay? Just remember: He and Celylith have to rescue Estel in the end. If you slap him senseless, Aragorn will die and it will be your fault. Okay? Uhm, and I think I'll keep Wilwarin, I might still need her. You never know... But your spider sounds nice enough... No, the amputate-the-arm-bit was when they ran into the hill trolls half a year ago, something I mentioned in AEFAE. Perhaps I'm going to write a prequel one of these days... I hope you'll enjoy the chapter! Somehow, I have not the slightest doubt that you will... *g*  
Zam - *backs away* SURE he is yours! *thrusts Celylith into Zam's arms and runs* Live long and prosper! LOL, you have a tatto saying _that_? You may even be crazier than I thought, and that's not easy to begin with... You really like the voices, huh? Well, I have them as well, and believe me, they are just like that! LOL at the Elrond scenes! I can just imagine that! But I'm sure he would get out of it with the help of a good lawyer... *grabs Zan's shirt* How many times have I told you, Do Not Rape My Characters? Really, Lina should put a leash on you! Orc horde: Lina????? Nili: Oh, forget I said anything. Well, I know what Scooby Doo is, but I always thought that it was stupid, even as a child. So I've never watched it, or the movie. *shudders*   
NaughtyNat - Well, it's not exactly _about_ the dreams, it's more or less about what will give him dreams in the future... *evil grin* Great you like it so much, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter as well - which you should, if you like Estel torture, that is...   
E - *nods* He IS stupid. Very very very very stupid, I admit that. And I wouldn't worry about Legolas killing Estel, there are other people giving that a try right now... *gulps* You will ... look at me? All the time? That is not good! *hastily* See? See? Chapter's here! *mutters* 'Big E is watching you', huh?  
Fliewatuet - LOL, you could say that! That elf gains fan girls wherever he goes! Yeah well, Celylith did indeed enjoy the little argument, but then agian, watching two so incredibly stubborn people quarrel can be quite funny! Uhm, define 'dark', please?! You should know me well enough to know that it never looks hopeless-dark, only temporaray-rather-dark, if you see what I mean? Well, the update is due, uhm, now? That soon enough? *g*  
Elenora - *blushes until she resembles a beetroot* Stop that! You will give me delusions of grandeur! But ... awwww!! *huggles Elenora* Thank you! All your wonderful compliments really made my day which hasn't been so good - and it's only 11 pm! It can still get worse! I just got this review virtually a second before I wanted to post, so it's lucky I was able to read it before that fateful moment... I usually try to update every four to five days, right now every four if FF.net co-operates which it doesn't quite often lately. I don't know how much longer I can keep that up since exams are coming ever closer, but we'll see... *g* Celylith is pronounced, well, like Kelylith? With a K and th; all Sindarin words that start with 'C' are pronounced like 'K', just like Celebrimbor, Celeborn etc. Well, about Legolas recovering too quickly: He's an elf and it was only a little bit of cold water? *evil grin* Really, it wasn't THAT bad ... but you'll see, he's not completely well again, sometime next chapter ... or was it the one after the next? *shrugs* I'm getting old... *g* And English isn't my first language, and strictly speaking it isn't my second either since I started with Latin and started to learn English when I was 12 - so that's 8 years ago now... Thanks for your compliments though, and if you want to know, German is my first language. *shrugs* Nothing I can do about that, I fear... I really hope your migraines have gone wherever migraines go when you wish them to hell, thanks SO much for the huge wonderful review! And see? A new chapter's already here, you're SO lucky! *g***  
  
*sighs*** **Nothing's better than reviews, and if there is, I have yet to find it. Which I won't, because there isn't. I am not making any sense, am I? Ah well, whatever, humans apparently DO need more than four hours sleep a night...**  
  
  
  
  
  



	12. Getting Even

**Disclaimer: **For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.  
  
  
**A/N:  
  
*smiles smugly* I'm so glad you liked that last cliffy, I was kind of proud of it myself... Okay, so it may have been a little bit evil, but really, what did you expect? And the torture bit wasn't THAT bad, now was it? I mean, at least he didn't get whipped - yet... *runs away cackling evilly*  
  
And to those who think that I am treating Legolas unfair (after all, he didn't get tortured in a while - hey! Your logic, not mine! *g*) let me just say one thing: Just you wait... Things can always get worse, and usually, they do get worse, too... *g* The same goes for Celylith, for whom I am planning something rather not nice at the moment - but don't tell him that, he might try to escape again...   
  
  
Okay, so, here is chapter 12 which only shows that this whole story is already _way_ longer than it was meant to be. *sighs* Well, nothing I can do about that, I fear, the characters just refuse to shut up!   
Anyway, as I said, chapter 12, in which Legolas and Celylith demonstrate several different groups just what happens when they hurt their friends, poor Estel gets rescued of course and we have a little talk with Seveawen.** **Plus, it's no cliffy, at least that's what I think. *g*  
  
  
Enjoy and review, please! **  
  
  
  


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Chapter 12  
  
  
There were few times when Legolas could remember being this angry. He usually reserved this kind of raw, burning, all-consuming hatred for orcs, but when he looked at the blonde man in front of him, he found out that it was even possible for this anger to go up a notch, something he previously would have thought highly improbable.  
  
They had left Owaeran's house about two hours ago and split up once they had reached the part of the docks Nyssa had named as possible hiding places, and the past hour had been spent with searching one of the dark buildings after the other.  
  
Of course this building had been the last they had searched, as things always happened in such situations. Owaeran, Seobryn and the four servants who had agreed to some with them were still searching the buildings on the other side of the pier, and so the two elves had entered this one on their own, just in time to hear a pain-filled cry from somewhere in the back of the vast abandoned factory, a cry they had recognised all too quickly.  
  
Legolas first instinct had been to rush forwards without the slightest regard to his own safety, but Celylith's hand on his arm had stopped him before he had even taken more than two steps. The silver haired elf had merely looked at him and shook his head, his eyes betraying the turmoil he felt, but even if Estel was his friend, he would not let his prince rush to his certain death just like that.  
  
The fair haired elf had taken a deep breath and forcefully calmed himself. Celylith was right, it wouldn't help Aragorn if he got himself killed instead of helping him.  
  
Carefully the two of them had made their way through the dark building, and after a few dozen steps they had come across a man that was guarding another set of doors, apparently oblivious to the fact that there was another way into the building. Legolas, not being in the mood for idle conversation, had soundlessly drawn one of his knives, and, taking it by the hilt and not by the blade as usual, thrown it swiftly at the bored-looking man, hitting his temple with the hilt and causing him to crumple in a graceless heap without making a sound.  
  
Celylith had quickly walked over and taken the human's weapons and Legolas' dagger; while they were rather unconcerned that the man might wake up suddenly, there was no reason to give him the means to kill them, since they had no time to bind him now. Straightening up, the silver haired elf had spied Aragorn's other weapons and had taken them as well, giving the unconscious man a disgusted look.  
Their keen elven ears detecting the sound of a voice somewhere to the right of them, they had stealthily made their way deeper into the factory, and, guided by the voice, had quickly found what they had been looking for.  
  
Soundlessly they had entered a vast room with some pipes running through the entire length of it, both with their bows drawn and arrows notched.  
They had rounded a pile of stacked wood and three figures had become visible, two of them holding the third close to one of the pipes from which a constant stream of hot steam escaped.  
  
"…won't even have noticed that you are gone!"  
  
His heart clenching in fury, the elven prince had quickly made his way over to the unsuspecting humans, the two strangers blocking the sight of Aragorn.   
  
One of the men, with blonde hair and contempt in his voice, had stepped closer to his captive and asked in a mocking voice,  
  
"You see? You are on your own, ranger. Where are they now, your friends, the elves?"  
  
A wave of fury had swept over him then, and Legolas had stated in a soft, threatening voice, a voice so cold that it chilled even Celylith to his bones,  
  
"Right behind you."  
  
The two humans had swivelled around, and exactly that had been the point when Legolas had found out that, no matter how angry he already was, it was always possible to get even angrier.   
  
The elven prince tightened his grip on his bow, forcing himself not to simply shoot these men who were slowly edging backwards, keeping Aragorn between them and the irate elves. Killing in cold blood was behaviour unbefitting an elf, especially killing one of the _edain_. But, he decided after a second, silver-blue eyes burning with fury when he studied the body of his human friend, today he might make an exception.  
  
The dark haired ranger looked as if he would drop to the ground if not for the hands that still gripped his bound arms, his eyes tightly closed and teeth clenched as he tried to combat the pain he was very obviously in. Swiftly blossoming bruises covered his face and what was visible of his chest, and past the slashed fabric he could he could also see … burns?  
  
Legolas eyes slowly travelled from the battered body of his friend to the pipes behind the humans, and had to fight hard for composure as the pieces fell into place.  
  
"Let him go," he commanded softly, his voice trembling slightly with raw, unrestrained fury. "Let him go and we might not kill you where you stand."  
  
The blonde man sneered and produced a knife, holding it close to the younger man's neck, too close.  
"You will do nothing of that sort, elf," he hissed. "Get back or I will kill your friend."  
  
At the sound of voices Aragorn opened his eyes, blinking in confusion as he saw the faces of his elven friends.  
"Legolas?" he questioned softly.  
  
"Yes, Estel, it is me," Legolas soothed in Elvish, his eyes not leaving the blade the other man held. "Hold on, my friend."  
  
The blonde man grinned, but quickly growing panic was beginning to fill his eyes. He was stuck here with two vengeful elves and nowhere to go. He grabbed a handful of the ranger's dark hair and pulled him slightly to the right to shield himself better, grinning again when he felt the man stiffen in pain.  
  
The blonde elf's eyes seemed to light with a cold blue fire at that, and he took a small step forward that was mirrored by the other elf.  
"Touch him again and I swear it will be the very last thing you will ever do."  
  
The man wanted to retort something, but found to his surprise that his voice didn't seem to work as he kept staring at the deadly blue eyes of the elf that promised him a painful death should he dare hurt the ranger again. He swallowed nervously and began to slowly edge sidewards, pulling the ranger with him. If he was lucky, he would be able to get out of here after all…  
  
Legolas saw the man slowly move in the direction of the exit, and shot Celylith a quick look who nodded his head almost imperceptibly. They couldn't wait any longer; they couldn't allow that man to take Aragorn outside. This had to end, and he would end it here.  
  
The elven prince took another careful step forwards, furtively manoeuvring himself into a better position. Then, with an inward plea to Elbereth to make sure that his human friend wouldn't move, he released the arrow quickly and without warning. The blonde man had no time to react, and he collapsed to the ground with a cry of pain together with the young ranger, a brown feathered arrow sticking out of his right shoulder.  
  
The other man, however, was not so lucky, since he had moved at the exact same time that Celylith had released his arrow. The silver haired elf's projectile had hit him squarely in the chest, propelling him backwards a few feet. Legolas didn't waste any more time pondering the man's fate but quickly moved forwards and rolled the blonde man that was trying to get back to his feet off Aragorn and, with a swift kick to his right hand, persuaded him to let go of the dagger as well.  
  
Before the man had even a chance to understand what was happening, the fair haired elf was upon him, his eyes hard and emotionless and one of his knives placed exactly over his heart.  
  
"Who are you?" Legolas asked the man, pushing down the blade lightly. "What do you want from us? Who is your employer?"  
  
Lomar looked up wildly, his thoughts racing. He didn't doubt that the elf would kill him if he had to, but if he betrayed his comrades, his captain or his liege, he would die too, but a death more horrible than even an elf could ever come up with.   
'One way or the other, I'm dead,' he thought calmly and quickly came to a decision.  
  
He grinned at the startled elf above him and, with a quick move of his hands, grabbed the dagger and thrust it down, directly into his heart.  
  
"No!" Legolas called out in shock, trying to pull back his weapon, but it was already too late. The knife was buried deeply in the human's chest, and the man gave a sigh, a mocking light shining in his eyes until it dimmed and finally went out altogether.  
  
Legolas stared at the dead human in front of him. That man had just calmly taken the knife and buried it in his own chest! Why would he do such a thing? What could he possible have feared so much that he would prefer death to capture?  
  
He looked over to Celylith who had walked over to the human he had shot and crouched down next to him, feeling for a pulse. After a moment he looked up, eyes dark and cold, and slowly shook his head.  
  
Wonderful, Legolas thought sarcastically as he removed his knife from the man's ribcage, so now they had two dead men, a lot of questions and no answers to why they had taken Aragorn…  
  
"Aragorn!" the elven prince gasped, cursing himself for his moment of distraction. He quickly moved over to his friend's side who was weakly trying to push himself into a sitting position and cut his bonds with a quick slash of his dagger. Legolas' hands hovered over the young ranger's form for a moment as he was trying to determine where he could touch the man so he wouldn't hurt him, and finally decided that the left upper arm was as good a guess as any.  
  
"Aragorn," he repeated, carefully pulling the man into a sitting position and allowing him to rest against his chest, ignoring his bruised ribs that screamed in pain at the pressure. "O the Valar, what did you get yourself into this time?"  
  
"I'm sorry, _mellonamin_," the young ranger mumbled quietly, leaning back against his friend in exhaustion. "It was a trap … I didn't mean to get caught…"  
  
"I know you didn't," the blonde elf shook his head, carefully tipping the other's head to the side and inspecting the abrasion on his friend's temple. "This is beginning to tire me, human. I always have to come and rescue you. What were you thinking, Aragorn?"  
  
Aragorn ignored the elf's last question and snorted softly, his eyes sliding shut again now that the pain of his injuries was beginning to catch up with him once more.  
"The last time I came and rescued you, elf, do not forget that."  
  
"And I seem to be condemned to helping both of you out of trouble," Celylith announced cheerfully, crouching down next to his friends and starting to push the ranger's shirt aside to have a look at his injuries. "Elbereth, Strider, what did they do to you?"  
  
The young man struggled to open his eyes, fighting against the very tempting sleep that was beginning to creep up on him.  
"Oh, they got upset when I wouldn't answer their questions," he said softly, eyes closing once again. "I couldn't … didn't even know what they wanted … then … pipes…"  
  
"Who did this, Estel?" Legolas whispered fiercely, gently brushing sweat-soaked dark hair away from the human's forehead. "Who of them did this?"  
  
Aragorn weakly nodded into the direction where Lomar lay, wincing slightly when Celylith gently touched the burnt side of his chest.  
"He and one of the others … perhaps two, though… I cannot remember."  
  
"They're dead, do not worry, my friend," Legolas assured the young man quietly. "And I am quite sure they regretted their course of action before the end."  
  
His human friend didn't reply, and the elven prince leaned forward, trying to peer in his face.  
"Estel? Aragorn, are you awake? Estel!"  
  
"He's lost consciousness," Celylith informed the fair haired elf seriously, laying a hand on his arm to calm the distraught prince. "And it's probably for the best. He has a lot of bruises and perhaps a few cracked ribs, even though I do not think so. There might be a concussion though, and some of the burns look quite ugly. We need to get him back to Owaeran's house. There is nothing I can do for him here."  
  
Legolas nodded soundlessly, shifting the human in his arms so he could carry him. If Celylith said they couldn't do anything here, then he believed him. Legolas had been instructed in the healing arts himself, as every warrior was, but Celylith's mother had been a master healer before she had departed over the Sea, and she had taught her son much of what she had known. While he certainly wasn't skilled to the same extent as Aragorn, the twins or Lord Elrond, he knew more than enough for Legolas to trust in his judgement.  
  
"Let us go then," he said, struggling to his feet and ignoring the fact that his head seemed to spin around its own axis at that. All this running around Esgaroth desperately looking for his missing friend hadn't done anything to help his still aching head.  
  
"Legolas, I think it would be better if I…" Celylith began, but Legolas interrupted him quickly, swaying slightly on his feet until he regained his balance.  
  
"I am more than capable of carrying him," Legolas stated more confidently than he felt, shooting his elven friend a warning glare.  
  
The silver haired elf returned the dark glare in kind, looking dubiously at the other elf. Legolas looked anything but fit to carry anything right now, especially something as heavy as Estel. He slowly shook his head in exasperation as he recognised the incredibly stubborn look on his friend's face.  
  
"Wait a second then, my prince," he said, shrugging out of his cloak and draping it over the unconscious human, "He will need this. It's too cold outside for him to go dressed like that."  
  
The fair haired prince smiled his thanks and turned, carefully making his way over the uneven ground to the exit. They passed the spot where they had left the guard; unsurprisingly, he was gone. They had both expected it, and so they didn't waste time trying to find out where he had disappeared to. He was probably long gone and as far away from here as humanly possible.  
  
Celylith opened the wooden door that led onto the pier they had come from, and while he held it open so that Legolas could pass through, a shout reached their elven ears, automatically causing the elven warrior to reach for his sword.  
  
He relaxed again when he realised that it were Owaeran, Seobryn and the other men that had spotted them and were now running into their direction.  
  
"Strider?" Seobryn gasped as he skidded to a halt next to the elven prince. "Great Ones, is he…"  
  
"No," Legolas shook his head, a flash of pain racing across his features at that movement. "No, he isn't and he won't either. But we need to get him back."  
  
Owaeran nodded, not being able to tear his eyes away from the pale, bruised face of the young ranger. Eru, it was his fault that he was in this condition, his and his brother's…  
  
"Yes," he nodded dazedly. "Yes, let us go. Are there any men you would wish me to hand over to the authorities?"  
  
He wasn't surprised when both elves shook their heads mutely. It would have astonished him to learn that any of those who had taken the ranger still lived. He had never seen someone as angry as those two when they had begun to search this area.  
  
"No, no-one," Celylith added softly. "There are two men back in that building though. They … will never leave it again either."  
  
"So I had thought," the trader commented somewhat dryly before turning to Seobryn who was still staring at Aragorn's unmoving form with concern. "You, lad. Run ahead and inform the Mistress that we are coming. She will know what to do."  
  
The boy looked up somewhat unwillingly, but quickly nodded and turned, disappearing quickly in the direction of Owaeran's house, the snow crunching loudly under his feet.  
  
Legolas turned without another word and followed the young man, carefully making his way over the ice-crusted planks of the docks. Celylith followed his lord, wincing inwardly when he saw the blank, guilt-filled eyes of the fair haired elf. He would have to talk with him about this, he decided with an inward sigh as they were walking over yet another bridge, he would have to make Legolas see reason. There was no way he could have prevented what had happened, it had been incredibly bad luck, pure and simple.  
  
He shook his head and gave a small smile. This was another of these things, he mused, another of the things his friend had adopted over the past two years. The tendency to blame himself for things that were beyond his control had always been rather pronounced of the other elf, but in those two years it had had grown to improbable dimensions.  
  
'It is a Rivendell thing,' he decided with a nod of his head, ''Tis a Noldorin habit, that much is clear. Perhaps it's contagious; I should be careful the next time I come there.'  
  
He winced inwardly. There was no way he would go anywhere near the Last Homely House in the near future, not after this. He didn't want to incur the wrath of at least four elf lords, namely that of the master of said house, of his sons and another elf who had faced a balrog and … well, perhaps not exactly lived to tell the tale, but at least he had prevailed, in a way.  
  
If Lord Elrond, the twins and Lord Glorfindel (not to mention the rest of Rivendell's population) heard that he had allowed Estel to get himself into _this_, he would be as good as dead. And that was only when he managed to survive his encounter with his liege.  
  
Before he could dwell further on this rather depressing subject, they reached Owaeran's house, and before one of them could even knock, the door was flung wide open, allowing them to enter. When they reached the staircase, Misien was already waiting for them, looking as if she had everything perfectly under control.  
  
That impression was affirmed when she immediately began to send the clustering servants off into different parts of the house and gave the elves a small nod.  
"You can bring him upstairs," she said quietly, standing on her toes to peer into Aragorn's pale face, "The fire is already burning and there are several extra blankets and hot water should you need it. Bandages you have yourselves, haven't you?"  
  
"Indeed we have, my lady," Legolas nodded. "Thank you."  
  
He began to make his way up the stairs, and after a pointed look from her mother Seveawen hurried after him, holding a lamp and trying very much to act calm, as if elves carrying injured rangers and vice versa was an not an unusual occurrence in her house.  
  
Celylith looked after him for a second before turning back to the elderly woman.  
"My lady, we will need cold water as well."   
  
Misien nodded, and Owaeran added,  
  
"Is there anything else you need?"  
  
The elven warrior frowned, thinking quickly. What herbs could these humans possibly have that he could use?  
"Marigold," he finally said, deciding that the usual elven herbs would not be found here. "If you have some, I would greatly appreciate it if you could bring it to us with the water."  
  
"It will be done, Master Elf," the woman assured the elf. "I will bring you what we have."  
  
Celylith nodded at the humans and quickly followed his friends upstairs. He arrived just in time to see Legolas place the unconscious human on the bed in his room, stumbling slightly as he did so. Cursing inwardly, Celylith silently entered the room. Aragorn had been right after all, Legolas was merely 'fine'-fine.  
  
Wondering for a moment what it said about his own sanity that he was adopting the ranger's expressions, he stepped closer and pressed the elven prince down onto the edge of the bed.  
"Stay here, Legolas. I will get the bandages and everything. I don't want to pick you off the floor as well."  
  
The elven prince was too concentrated on his human friend to protest, already busy trying to get him out of the shirt. When that proved to pain the human too much even in his unconscious state, he simply took one of his daggers and cut it off his body.  
  
"Elbereth," he quietly muttered, feeling how his temper once again flared to life. The entire left side of Aragorn's chest was red and hot to the touch, with large blisters forming atop the abused flesh. Bruises coloured the right side of the chest and his face, and could also been seen beneath the burnt skin of the left side of the torso.  
  
He looked up in surprise when he felt a cup being pressed into his hand.  
"Here," Celylith told him, already turning back to get the water and the bandages. "Get him to drink this. Cleaning the burns will be painful and I would want to spare him that."  
  
Without a word, Legolas obeyed, carefully lifting his friend's head and slowly coaxing the potion into his mouth. At first the Aragorn didn't appear too inclined to drink what was being given to him, but when Legolas started to talk to him quietly in Elvish, he relaxed slightly and allowed the elf to administer the sleeping drug.  
  
'That is something new,' a voice inside his head stated surprised.  
  
Indeed it was, Legolas thought, very much surprised himself as he placed the empty cup on the small nightstand next to the bed. Aragorn had drunk medicine without fighting him overly much, trying to escape or giving him the _look_. He would remember that for the next time the young ranger needed to drink something, he thought, he would simply knock him out and make everything a lot easier for all of them.  
  
Once the two elves were sure that the ranger was deeply unconscious, they began cleaning the bruises and the cut at the side of his head. Legolas had to consciously stop his hand shaking as he carefully applied a healing salve to the bruises on the right side of Aragorn's ribcage. Had he only stopped his friend from leaving the house alone! He should have known something like this would happen, they had attracted far too much attention to themselves after all. And now the young human had paid the price for his foolishness…  
  
A hand caught his slightly shaking wrist and squeezed it gently. Startled, the elven prince looked up into the face of his childhood friend.  
  
"Don't," Celylith advised quietly. "Don't blame yourself, Legolas. It was not your fault. You are not a Vala, nor are you gifted with foresight or infallible. These dark thoughts will help none of us, neither you nor him. He will tell you the same once he awakens."  
  
Legolas smiled slightly, his eyes looking a little less haunted.  
"He probably will, reckless human that he is." He looked at his elven friend and nodded his head. "Thank you, _mellonamin_. You are right."  
  
"Of course I am," the silver haired elf replied, trying to lighten the sombre mood. "Another thing you have yet to learn, my lord: I am always right."  
  
"Are you?" Legolas asked back, once again concentrated on the still body of his human friend. "That is interesting, for I do remember the one time when we…"  
  
"My lords?" a female voice interrupted them, and they turned to see Seveawen stand in the doorway, carrying a bowl with cold water and some herb sacks. The girl looked at them with wide blue-green eyes that showed no sign of intimidation or fear though.   
  
"My mother sent me," she elaborated, slowly walking into the room. "She is busy with the servants and she has forbidden my father to come here."  
  
Celylith quickly got to his feet and took the items from her, smiling his thanks.  
"Thank you, my lady," he said, watching as the girl blushed at that title.   
  
Legolas arched an eyebrow at her.  
"Your father was forbidden to come here?"  
  
Seveawen blushed even more deeply when she realised that she probably shouldn't have mentioned that little fact.  
  
"Yes, Lord Legolas," she said, carefully taking another step closer to the bed and peering at its occupant. "My mother said that he would only be in the way and wouldn't help the 'poor, polite young boy'." She shrugged apologetically when the two elves grinned at each other. "I am sorry, she is always like that. Very protective of our guests, I mean."  
  
"Your mother is a very helpful lady, Seveawen," Legolas said earnestly. "She is the best host one could wish for, and we are deeply in her debt for her hospitality."  
  
The girl blushed again, and Legolas wondered that perhaps she and Seobryn were made for each other. He had never seen anyone blush as easily as those two young ones.  
  
"Thank you," she said quietly, and added, "Can I do anything to help? I promise I will not be in the way."  
  
Celylith looked up from his bowl where he had been mixing dried marigold with the cold water the girl had brought. The marigold was the next best thing to the elven herbs he had been taught to use for cleaning burns, which nobody had thought to bring with them, of course. They had enough ointment and bandages to treat twenty people with burns twice as bad as Aragorn's, but nothing to wash the wounds with. He sighed inaudible. The marigold would have to do, and from what he had learned, it would do quite nicely, too.  
  
"You can bring me the warm water, lady," he said, turning his attention back to his bowl. "But after that I would ask you to leave. Cleaning burns is tremendously painful for the victim, and I would not like you to see such things."  
  
The girl scowled at the elf's back, but picked up the hot water that was sitting on a small stool next to the fireplace and brought it over to him.  
"Do not tell me, Master Elf: Because I am too young."  
  
Celylith took the water from her and poured some into his bowl until the water had reached a tepid temperature. Stirring its contents slightly, he smiled at the look of indignation on the young woman's face.  
"Precisely, lady. You are far too young for such things."  
  
"I am not young! I am seventeen!" Seveawen exclaimed, placing hands on hips.  
  
"Oh, of course," Legolas nodded from his place on the bed's edge, trying to hide an amused smile. He could very well remember the countless arguments he had had with Aragorn about this particular topic. "Forgive us our ignorance, my lady. Seventeen is not young."  
  
Seveawen tried to glower at the prince, but found it hard to resist the laughing sparkle in those silver-blue eyes. Finally, she smiled and shook her head.  
"He was right," she stated, preparing to leave the room. "I will go then. Please call should you need anything. Will Mr. Strider be alright?"  
  
Celylith gave her a small, but sincere smile that seemed to light up his entire face.  
"Yes, lady, he will. He is too stubborn not to be. Thank you for your help."  
  
Legolas nodded at the girl, smiling as well.  
"You have my thanks as well, Seveawen." He waited until she had almost reached the door and asked, "Who was right, my lady?"  
  
The young woman turned and smiled, pushing a lock of blonde hair out of her eyes.  
"Seobryn. He said that he would never understand elves, no matter how long he lived. He said that your souls were too paradox and profound to understand in a mortal lifetime, and that only a fool would try and reason with an elf." Her smile broadened. "He didn't say it quite like this, but I think that was the tenor of his remarks."  
  
With a small curtsy she slipped out of the room and closed the door behind her, leaving two rather amused elves behind.  
  
"I am hurt," Celylith stated, eyes twinkling as he carried the bowl with the water and marigold over to the bed. "I had come to like that boy."  
  
Legolas merely smiled at his friend.  
"You, dear Celylith, have missed the point."  
  
"Have I, my lord?" the silver haired elf asked as he made sure that all healing utensils were within easy reach.  
  
"Yes," Legolas nodded with a smug smile. "_Seobryn_ told her."  
  
Celylith just stared at him for a second before understanding began to dawn on his face.  
"Oh! Seobryn _told_ her!" He gave the elven prince a careful cuff. "You! What have you written in that poem?"  
  
Legolas shrugged lightly and returned his attention to the still body of his human friend, turning serious quicker than one would have thought possible   
"Shall we?"  
  
The other nodded gravely, hoping that the sleeping draught had been potent enough. He hadn't much experience in drugging humans, and he hadn't wanted to overdose the man. He would have to ask the Lord of Imladris how much of the root was adequate the next time he saw him, he decided. If he lived that long, that was.  
  
"Yes, the sooner the better. Hold him down as best as you can, this will hurt quite a lot."  
  
And that it did, all three of them.   
  
As Celylith had predicted did the pain from cleaning the burns even penetrate the unconscious haze that enveloped the young ranger's mind, and at times Legolas needed all his strength to hold his friend's body down that was desperately trying to escape their ministrations. While he was incessantly murmuring soothing Elvish words to Aragorn, hoping to calm him some this way, the elven prince tried with all his might not to listen to the moans and soft cries of pain that his human friend couldn't hold back.  
  
By the time they had finished, Legolas felt thoroughly drained and filled with a choking mixture of guilt, pain, fear and an overwhelming fury. If he ever got his hands on the people who had ordered this, they would pay dearly for every bruise his friend had sustained.  
  
Celylith made sure that every burn had been washed, treated with a special healing salve left behind by Lord Elrond and bound lightly before turning worried eyes on his prince. Legolas was almost as white as Estel and looked about as terrible as he himself felt.  
  
He lifted a hand – when had his hands started shaking? – and pointed it at the blonde elf.  
  
"Stay," he commanded curtly. "I will have another look at your head and ribs. You are not well yourself."  
  
"I am…"  
  
"Not well yourself," Celylith repeated, pushing Legolas back down. "I will have a look at you and then you will take some rest, my friend."  
  
"I do not need rest," the other protested, "I need to find out what is going on here!" Legolas ran a hand through his now slightly frayed braids. "It cannot go on like this! Aragorn's been injured because we keep stumbling around this town like deaf orcs that cannot hear the tune the piper is playing! This has to end!"  
  
"You are right," the silver haired elf agreed rather unimpressed, grabbing his friend's chin and tipping his head to the side so he could inspect the healing cut on his temple. "We will ask the 'Fox' a few questions tomorrow. Tomorrow, Legolas," he gave the prince a stern look. "Take some rest, _mellonamin_. Aragorn will be fine, the worst is over now. He should wake tomorrow morning, you can come back then."  
  
Legolas gave him a cool stare while the elven warrior was rewrapping the head wound despite the prince's protests.  
"Why does everybody here think they can order me around?"  
  
Celylith fastened the bandage and smiled at him.  
"No-one does, my lord; that must be your imagination. You should go to sleep."  
  
Legolas shook his head stubbornly and rolled up in his armchair, holding his bruised ribs and giving the sleeping form of his human friend a last look.  
"I am not leaving this room."  
  
"I hadn't expected you to," Celylith sighed, suddenly understanding why Lord Elrond looked so terribly stressed every time one of these two was injured and the other was, naturally, being difficult.  
  
"Ilúvatar, I hadn't expected you to."  
  
  
  
  
The next morning found Legolas and Celylith the exact same way: In armchairs next to Aragorn's bedside. A few hours ago the elven prince had finally succumbed to sleep when Celylith had promised to keep watch over the young human and wake him should there be a change.  
  
Grumbling inwardly, the silver haired elf got up and walked over to the fireplace to add some more wood. Sleeping in armchairs was yet another Rivendell thing, he decided. While he had no problems sleeping in a tree – of course not, he was a Silvan elf, after all – he couldn't understand what was so comfortable about armchairs that the sons of Elrond and Legolas insisted on sleeping in them.  
  
Owaeran had already come and gone. The trader had seemed a lot older than on the day they had met, and he had beseeched them to let this go and return to their woodland home. He didn't want them to suffer any more injuries because of what his brother had got himself into.  
  
Legolas had politely stated that he would think about it, but Celylith knew very well that this was not true. There was no way his prince was returning to Mirkwood now, for that he was far too stubborn. Legolas would find out what this was all about, and if he had to turn Esgaroth upside down for it, then he would do so, without even thinking twice. Besides, everything was better than to return to the king's halls with a bandage wrapped around your head  
  
A soft knock sounded on the door, and Legolas began to stir in his chair. He readjusted his vision just in time to see Misien enter the room, followed by two servants that were carrying trays.  
  
"Here, my lords," she said, stepping closer and smiling at them. "I brought you some breakfast. It won't do him any good if you starve yourselves. You look far too thin anyway!"  
  
Legolas blinked slowly. They looked thin?  
"Thank you, my lady," he said, trying to ignore Celylith's barely hidden grin. "Your concern is very much appreciated."  
  
He accepted the tray one of the men was handing him and stared at the food with wide eyes. They were expected to actually eat that much? Even a hobbit would have trouble eating all of it! He smiled at Celylith who eyed the tray with something akin to despair. Legolas gave him an evil grin. The silver haired elf ate even less than himself, and human food had never really been to his liking.  
  
"How is he?" Misien asked after the servants had left the room again. She looked at her hands, guilt etched on her features. "I am so sorry, sirs. My husband never meant for this to happen, and my brother-in-law surely didn't either."  
  
"They are not at fault," Legolas shook his head. "Your husband couldn't have known what would happen. Strider will be fine, he will wake up soon."  
  
"No, Legolas," Celylith smiled, looking up from where he had inspected the human's bandages, "He is waking up now."  
  
The fair haired elf quickly turned and moved closer to the bed, staring at the young man's face. Aragorn's eyes were beginning to move under the lids and the hand that the prince held was beginning to twitch slightly.  
  
"Estel!" he called softly, switching his speech to Elvish. "Come, my friend, you have slept long enough! Celylith was already beginning to think he had overdosed you! Do you want your father and brothers to kill him for such a minor mistake? Wake up, Estel!"  
  
Slowly, a rather glazed grey eye was opened, and after a moment or two, the second was pried open tentatively. When the young ranger was sufficiently satisfied that neither his head would explode as it threatened to nor his chest would burst into flames – which it apparently already had – he slowly turned his head to the right, following the voice.  
  
"Legolas … where?" he asked in a hoarse voice, squinting to focus his eyes on the smiling figure of his elven friend.  
  
"We are back in Master Owaeran's house," the prince explained in Westron, reaching out to place a slender hand against the young human's cheek. "We are safe, don't worry. You will be fine as well, you miraculously only cracked one rib. There is a light concussion however, and the burns of course. You need rest."  
  
Aragorn closed his eyes again, but they shot open when he remembered something he had already wanted to tell his friends in the warehouse.  
"The men … they were not the 'Fox's'."  
  
"We know, my friend," Legolas nodded, wincing inwardly when he saw the pain on his friend's face the other was trying so hard to hide. He had experienced such burns once or twice in his life as well, and it was something he would very much like to forget. It was among the most painful injuries there were, and for a human they had to be even worse.  
  
He winked at his elven friend out of the corner of his eye, and Celylith nodded, already beginning to mix yet another sleeping draught in a goblet. It was probably best if they kept the young human drugged today, this way they would spare him a lot of unnecessary pain.  
  
Aragorn hadn't noticed the elves' silent exchange, and he frowned, trying to remember what he could about the men.   
"There … there were two of them."  
  
"Nay, Estel, when we found you there were three," Legolas said and added, with more satisfaction than he should feel, "Two of them are dead."  
  
The ranger shook his head and froze when pain lanced through his skull.  
"No, I mean there were two leaders, the other two were only hired for the job, I think. One of them left … I cannot remember when and where he went. He was gone suddenly."  
  
The elven prince frowned.  
"Do you know why he left?"  
  
"No," Aragorn shook his head, exhaustion and pain beginning to tinge his words. "No. I … I was lying on the floor, I think, and when they had picked me up again, he was gone."  
  
Legolas squeezed his friend's hand, cursing himself for having brought these memories back to his friend. He had hoped to get the young man's thoughts off his nightmares, not give him new ones, for Eru's sake!  
  
"It's not important now, _mellonamin_. You should rest and regain your strength; we will see to it that nothing harms you again."  
  
He looked at Celylith who held up the cup with the sleeping potion, shrugging helplessly. Now that Aragorn was awake, there was no way that he would allow them to drug him back into unconsciousness just like that. But if… He would never make a fuss when a stranger, and a female stranger at that, was the one who…  
  
Legolas turned and looked at Misien, who stood at the end of the bed, a small smile playing about her lips. It was good to see the lad awake again, she thought, such a poor, poor boy…  
  
"My lady," he said, taking the goblet from his elven friend, "Would you be so kind to help Strider drink this? He really needs the rest, and I need to leave for a second."  
  
Misien nodded eagerly, missing the look of pure hatred the young ranger shot his friend.  
"Gladly, Master Elf," she said and moved closer to the bed, taking the cup form the fair haired elf. "You are right, the poor boy needs rest."  
  
A cough that sounded suspiciously like a snicker could be heard from Celylith's direction, and Aragorn turned his head to glare at the elf, ignoring the flaming pain in his chest as best as he could. Somehow it felt as if his torso was aflame, and even the lightly applied bandages were exerting an almost unbearable pressure on the burnt skin.  
  
"This is not fair," he announced unhappily in Elvish. "I will get you for this, Legolas."  
  
A clear laugh filled the room as Legolas watched his friend allow Misien to pour the bitter concoction into his mouth, trying not to glower at the woman too openly. It wasn't her fault that the potion tasted every bit as bad as Elrond's sleeping draughts.   
  
"Life is never fair, _dúnadan_," the elf said cheerfully from where he was leaning against the door frame. "I thought you knew that."  
  
He walked back into the room once the ranger had emptied the cup, and if Misien thought it odd that he hadn't left after all, she was too intelligent to ask. He sat down on the bed and watched with a smile how his human friend tried to battle the effect of the drug.  
  
"Sleep, Estel," he said quietly. "There is no need for you to endure this kind of pain. Just go to sleep, and when you wake up tomorrow, you will feel better."  
  
"Tomorrow?" Aragorn asked indignantly, trying to stop his eyes from sliding shut and failing miserably, deep in his heart glad that he was not going to be awake much longer. Legolas was right, he _was_ ina lot of pain. Not that he would admit that, of course. "I will … get you for … this, Legolas, you can … count … on…"  
  
In mid-thought he fell asleep, and the elven prince chuckled quietly, brushing back a strand of dark hair that had fallen over the human's bruised cheek.  
  
"I do, Strider," he said earnestly. "I expect you to exact bloody revenge for this. Do not disappoint me."  
  
He slowly stood to his feet and picked up his breakfast tray where it sat forgotten on the armchair next to the bed. He looked at Celylith's serious face and gave him a small nod.  
  
"I think it is time that we make some plans for tonight. We have a visit to pay."  
  
  
  
  
The 'Fox' was sitting in the room they usually occupied in the "Empty Tankard", surrounded by his men and in a very foul mood.  
  
Not that that was an exceptional or unusual occurrence, no, the dark haired man was rather often in a foul mood. But the past two days had been remarkable even for him, his men had agreed earlier this evening, safe out of their leader's earshot of course. They were perhaps not the most intelligent men ever to grace this world, but they most certainly were not suicidal.  
  
Nobody knew his real name, and nobody had ever asked. The same went for questions about his home, family and things like that. As mentioned before, the men were not suicidal.  
All they did know was that the 'Fox' was the most ruthless man ever to live in this city as long as anyone could remember, and that he did their employer's bidding without question.  
  
The dark haired man in question took another mouthful of ale, frowning at the smiling barmaid that handed out even more tankards to his men. When he couldn't stand one thing, it was when someone was laughing while he was in a bad mood. Perhaps he should teach that girl a lesson, he thought, later of course. When there were fewer people around and everything was quiet…  
  
Grinning at that thought, he went back to his favourite pastime these days: Imagine what he would do to the ranger and the elves if he ever got his hands on them. These thought only served to darken his already black mood. After their little encounter with those three his employer had unambiguously stated that he didn't wish them to bother the strangers again. He didn't want any attention drawn to his involvement in the whole matter, and attacking two Mirkwood elves and a ranger had served to do just that.  
  
The dark haired man scowled. One of the elves had single-handedly defeated six of his men without even breaking into a sweat, if it was true what the two men that were still able to speak claimed, and together the three had injured or killed two-thirds of the seventeen men he had had with him that evening.  
  
No, he decided grimly, it didn't matter what their employer said, he wouldn't allow them to get away with this! Defeated by elves, for Eru's sake! That was yet another thing he didn't like: Elves. The world would be a lot better off without those star-gazers, that much was sure.  
  
All of the sudden, the conversation his men had going hushed and finally died completely, and he looked up to see two hooded figures stand in front of their long table, the inn behind them already beginning to empty. It was already late at night, and the few people that were still here were leaving now as inconspicuously and quickly as possible. Every person who came here often knew when to leave, and these two hooded men here meant trouble, even a blind person could see that.  
  
One of the two figures lifted his head, but as much as the men tried to make out the face hidden under the hood, it remained shrouded in shadow.  
  
"The 'Fox', I presume," a soft voice stated, and while it didn't sound threateningly, there was a steely note in it that made quite a few of the assembled men wish they were anywhere but here.  
  
The dark haired man raised an eyebrow, furtively feeling for the hilt of his knife.  
"And if that's so?"  
  
The person chuckled quietly, but no mirth could be detected in the emotionless voice.  
"Then we have to talk to you. Send your men away and nobody will get hurt."  
  
The 'Fox' lifted the other eyebrow as well.  
"What? Are you mad? Who are you?"  
  
The other hooded figure spoke up, his voice just as cold as the first.  
"I think you know who we are, human."  
  
At that term the men looked up sharply, and they could do nothing more than stare as the two slowly threw back their hoods. Two elvish faces were revealed, both fair beyond human measure, one with silver and the other with pale golden hair.  
  
"The elves … come back … still alive…"   
  
Heated whispers sprang up like wildfire in the tavern, and the last customers quickly disappeared out of the door while the innkeeper ducked behind his bar. These two _definitely_ meant trouble.  
  
"Well, I will be damned," the 'Fox' stated, grinning at the two elves that just looked back emotionlessly. "You are bold to come here, I'll give you that. In fact, I have to thank you. This way I won't have to go and kill you, you are coming to me. How very considerate, don't you think, boys?"  
  
The men mumbled an affirmative, but they didn't look nearly as enthusiastic about this as the last time they had encountered these elves. Many of them had felt how stupid it was to cross these two.  
  
The fair haired elf gave the man a lenient smile.  
"Believe me when I say that nothing would please me more than to teach you a lesson, human. But I will give you one last chance: Send them away and answer a few questions, and every one of you will return home today."  
  
The other elf gave a matching, cold smile.  
"Do it not, and many of you won't go anywhere. Ever again."  
  
The dark haired man's face began to take an almost purple colour and the veins on his temples were beginning to swell with rage.  
"No-one threatens me, elf. Certainly not you!"  
  
One of the men stepped closer to the elves and reached out to grab one of them by the arm, and this was the exact moment the whole situation exploded, pure and simple. Before the men could even blink, the two elves had drawn their weapons and begun to systematically and effectively eliminate one man after the other.   
  
Before the 'Fox' had even drawn his knife, five of his men lay on the floor, and more and more joined them by the second. The dark haired man watched bewildered as the fair haired elf delivered a punch to one man who was trying to run him through with his blade, a punch that surely had broken the man's jaw, only to whirl around with unbelievable speed to face another attacker that had been trying to sneak up on him.  
  
The 'Fox' growled angrily, trying to suppress the building anxiety in his chest. He had never seen anything like this, not in his nearly forty years. Those two were merely a blur of long hair and gleaming knives, you couldn't even see them long enough to try and attack them!  
  
A cry drew the man back to the situation at hand, and he watched with wide eyes how the silver haired elf let go of a limp human he had obviously just slammed head first into a table, a dark silver eyebrow arched in amusement.   
A quick look around confirmed his worst fears: There were only a handful of his men left standing, and most of them were obviously looking for a way out of this situation as a whole.  
  
'Eru,' he thought stunned, 'They have eliminated fifteen of my men, just like that. Sixteen. No, seventeen.'  
  
Well, he decided angrily, he wouldn't go quietly! With a shout of rage he hurled himself at the fair haired elf, his knife drawn and ready to plunge it into his adversary's chest. Unfortunately, his adversary was no longer where he had been only seconds earlier, and therefore his wild slash met only air. Before he could figure out where the elf had disappeared to, a blow to his back almost sent him to his knees, and he whirled around to face the mirthlessly grinning elf.  
  
"Now, human, there's no need for this. You're not as strong anymore without your men to hide behind, are you?"  
  
"I hide behind no-one, elf," the man spat and moved forward to attack again, but before he had even raised his knife half-way, a hand closed around his wrist and squeezed, making him release his blade with a shout. Another hand grasped him by the tunic and slammed him against a wall with a bone-jarring crash.  
  
"Well," the blonde elf said quietly, fixing silver-blue eyes on the human's face, "You should."  
  
The hand that grasped his wrist moved to the front of his tunic, and he felt himself be lifted slightly off his feet. The 'Fox' looked around him wildly for help, but there was no-one left who could have aided him. The other elf who was sporting a gash across his forehead now was just letting the hilt of his dagger crack down on the head of the last man to oppose him, and with a sound of disgust the fair being turned and began to make his way over to them.  
  
"Thank you, my lord," the silver haired elf said, returning his sword and knife to their sheaths, wiping the blood that trickled down from the cut out of his eyes, "I needed this."  
  
"There's no need to thank me, my friend," the elf that was still pinning the man to the wall said without turning around. "'Twas my pleasure." He stared hard at the dark haired man. "My friend, the ranger, got into trouble with a few men yesterday. He is lying unconsciously in a bed now. I really don't like it when that happens to my friends."  
  
The 'Fox' stared at the elf, clearly beginning to panic now. Of course he had heard about it, there was little he didn't hear about, but this hadn't been his doing!  
"I … I had nothing to do with that!"  
  
The fair haired elf appraised him with a dark look.  
"Who else but you would be trying to pick a fight with us?"  
  
"He's lying, Legolas," the other elf said, trying to hide his grin. Of course they knew that the 'Fox' had not been involved in Aragorn's capture, but this was an excellent way to scare the man. He took a step closer to the struggling human, taking out his knife again. "Let me talk to him, five minutes will suffice."  
  
The dark haired man stared at the elves in horror. They were true, the stories one kept hearing about this accursed race!  
  
"We had nothing to do with it!" he almost shrieked when the fair haired elf's hand pushed him a bit harder against the wall, constricting his airway. "I don't know who they were, but they are the ones that killed Drabo!"  
  
"Why should we believe you?" Legolas asked. "My friend is hurt, and I know for a fact that you are capable of what has been done to him."   
  
The elf's eyes darkened, and for a moment the man could see past the veil that was placed there to hold his emotions in check. In those silver-blue orbs burned a fury so hot that the 'Fox' felt his heart freeze in his chest. He had never seen anyone this angry, and it scared him, more than anything else he could remember.  
  
"I swear to you that I don't know more about them!" he ground out.  
  
"Please, my lord," Celylith spoke up again, an evil glint in his eyes, "I haven't had any man blood in ages! Let me have him!"  
  
Legolas had to fight hard to keep his composure, and the absolute terror in the man's eyes did nothing aid him there. Celylith really overdid it a little now.  
  
"I don't know…" he pursed his lips in thought. "He could be useful yet…" He turned his eyes back on the dark haired man who looked as if he was about to die of fright. "Tell me what your Master has to do with all this. Tell me what it is that you are willing to kill for."  
  
The 'Fox' gulped silently.  
"I can't … he would kill me…"  
  
"Do it," the elf countered, tightening his grip on the man's tunic. "Do it now, or I will grant my friend's request." Legolas turned slightly to shoot his broadly grinning friend a taxing look. "He looks hungry, wouldn't you agree?"  
  
"Alright, alright!" the man shrieked when Celylith took a step closer to him. "I will! I will! I swear I'll tell you everything – just don't do that, please! We had nothing to do with the ranger's capture, I swear!"  
  
Legolas gave the terrified man a cold smile.  
  
"Convince me then."  
  
  
  
  
  
**TBC...  
  
  
  
  
** _edain - humans, men (pl.)  
mellonamin - my friend  
dúnadan - 'Man of the West', ranger  
  
  
  
  
_**See? No cliffy! I thought I needed to take it a little easier for a while or you would drop dead from too many cliffies, and then who would review? *shakes head* No, we can't have that... So, stay tuned for the next post, in which we will finally get some answers, see very cranky and annoyed rangers and will find out whether or not our favourite silver haired elf has turned into Count Celylith and drunk 'the Fox's' blood. *shakes head in disgust* He would deserve it, that much is sure... Oh, yes, and: Review? Please? Reviews help me get the chapters out faster! Really!   
  
  
  
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**Additional A/N:  
  
**TrinityTheSheDevil - Hah! As if! I have lots of wonderful voices that talk to ME, m'dear! *g* Well, mainly they say things like "torture-the-ranger-torture-the-elves" over and over again, but well... *giggles* Lof of people liked that particular paragraph! I wrote it with just that thought in mind - if that makes Lomar a sick bastard, then what am I? *evil grin* And you're right, Legolas isn't exactly a happy camper right now...  
Fliewatuet - *looks at her quizzically* No, it was NOT NICE, of course not! Did you expect anything _nice_ to happen? Really... *walks off shaking her head* Sorry that this update wasn't that prompt, but well, RL can be a bi*** sometimes, huh?   
Coreinha - Well, as I said somewhere at the bottom of the last chapter, 'teryg' is the plural form of 'torog', which is troll. One of these pesky Sindarin grammar thingies... But I'm sure you knew that, it's like adan-edain. *chuckles* But I like the thought of Aragorn getting beaten up by a horde of brothers... *nods frantically* Exactly! The steam was her idea! I gave her an idea for a name for a character she needed, and she gave me this in return. All HER FAULT! *blinks slowly* Sure you're smart, Cor, sure... *huggles her* Thanks for the nice long review!  
Elladan - Are you now? Incurably insane, I mean? That's okay, so are 99,9 % of the people here... And: My mind is not sick! No! Really! I am perfectly normal, it's just my alter ego, she thrives on fear and pain, it's rather distressing, really... *g* Well, about the Legolas-Estel-conversation: It's going to be rather short? *evil grin* Thanks a lot for your kind words! *huggles Elladan*  
Gwyn - You mean ... *sniff* ... that you ... don't ... don't like me?? *sobs openly* Why? What have I done? He's still alive, isn't he? *anxious look at angry readers that are being held back by Gwyn* You wouldn't let them get me, would you? WOULD YOU???  
Shadow Warrior - Oh, another review from you! Thanks! Well, yes, Legolas and Celylith are kinda ... upset right now, that's true...*g* Jope this update was soon enough! Thanks!  
Amelie - *blushes* Aww, thanks, I love writing 'horrible cliffhangers'! I really really really do! That makes me evil, doesn't it? Ah well, nothing new, is it? Yeah, Lomar isn't exactly a nice person, but there are worse, believe me. *chuckles darkly* Oh yes, preciousss, there are... And, ah, what shall I say, torture Legolas? Uhm, I think it's ... a possibility, let's put it that way. Just a possibility, okay? Don't panic... *g*  
Dragonfly - Well, there aren't many cliffies coming up right now, so don't worry. And yes, Legolas and Celylith will have to kick some butt, I gice you that. Thanks for the review!  
Stacee Phelps - Calm down, calm down, that's it, breathe.... _Of course_ I won't let him hang like that, I'm not suicidal, you know? Well, to be perfectly honest, Legolas isn't doing so much to Lomar, since... Oops! I'm not telling! Just read on, my friend, and you shall see. *g*  
Alexa - Well, it wasn't exactly a 'room full of humans', was it? I mean, it was a bloody big room with three humans in it, one of them being Aragorn, that's not really that many, huh? But well, they won't get into so much trouble, don't worry - yet. *evil grin* So many things can happen later though... Thanks for reviewing, even though you had no time! Thanks!  
TeddyBear888 - Oh, thanks! I think it's a lot longer than the last though, because I am losing the ability to make my characters shut up! Then again, I never really had that ability, so... Anyway, thanks a lot! Reviews are always great!  
Mouse - *beams* Thanks! Most people would think it odd that I love it when others tell me that I can write torture scenes well, but most people are stupid, too... And technically, I could be nice to him for a change, yes. But admit it, that would bore you guys half to death and back! But perhaps you're right and I should concentrate on Legolas and/or Celylith for a change... *evil grin*  
LadyEvenstar - *hangs head* You're right, I'm an evil writer! Coreinha tried to get me on a 12 steps program to cure me of my evilness, but it didn't work. *g* So you like Wilwarin, huh? Me too, I really could not understand why Legolas, the twins and Aragorn didn't like her! She was adorable, after all. And never fear, I would never write a Slash story, a.) because I really can't see them as lovers (Gah! It's just wrong, isn't it?) and b.) because I would die of laughter and embarassment before I had even written the first sentence. I don't like it much either...  
BlackRose1356 - You liked the cliffy? *beams and huggles her* Thanks! Finally, someone who can appreciate them! *evil grin* Thanks so much for your kind words!  
MidnightWolf - Yeah well, I troed to write an all-serious scene once and failed miserably. I have a weird sense of humour and couldn't write a scene with at least one stupid joke to save my life. I hope this post was soon enough? And don't worry, Legolas will get his chance to kick some a**!   
Eva - Well, yes, I agree, he will be the death of them, if he doesn't get himself killed first, that is... LOL, 'attack of the grumpy elves'? That sounds an awful lot like Attack of the Clones to me... *g* *nod* Yea´h, I don't know what their problem is either! I mean, really, a little bit of torture isn't something that should get you that upset, is it?   
Asha Dreamweaver - Thank you! I hope this is soon enough? There is really no way I could make it any sooner, sorry... Thanks for the review!  
Zam - *giggles* Down with the humans, huh? Well, I cannot really say I can agree with that, but okay... So YOU kidnapped him? That explains a lot, actually! Uhm, you and Glorfindel have a few issues to work out, did you know that? I mean, you can't keep squirting Clear Eyes at him! *wide-eyed* Spare arms? Zam, this is leaving weird far behind and is nearing absolutely disgusting... *g* And I wouldn't say that, my friend. Let's just say that this fic is far from over, and that Legolas will get his fair share of torture-induced-owies later. And about Celylith ... no, I can't tell you, it's too terrible! *starts sobbing* Poor baby...  
Lina - *grabs the back of her shirt* It is NOT Seobryn's fault! And don't kick him in the ... Lina!!! Stop it, now! Éomer!! Dammit, where is that blasted Rohir when you need him? *gulps, preparing to follow Seobryn* You ... read minds? Now that's scary, very, very scary... LOL, I never thought of that scene in TTT when I wrote that, really! But now that you mention it... *snorts* HP came and transfigurated Aragorn into his sword? *blinks* Suuuuuure, Lina, hold on to that thought... *looks around her for Éomer* LOL, so they're gay 'cause they asked for directions? You're right, that's the ultimate proof... And go ahead, pummel Lomar all you want. He deserves it and I don't need him anymore - did you know that I got his name when I put "Yet another red shirt" in the name generator? *g*  
Seveawen - Hysterical? Well, that means that you are close to losing it - you knew that right? Forgive me, I don't get irony most of the time... *g* Who will get tortured? Uhm, I really can't tell you that since it's not written yet, but I think it's safe to assume that everybody will get his fair share of owies. Elves go to the Halls of Mandos when they die, which is on the western coast of Aman, I think. Yes, I think it was far behind the Pelóri somewhere.. *shrugs* In short, in Valinor.  
Critternut - *nods* Right, the whole torture bit was punishment for his stupidity earlier. I'm afraid he wasn't drunk, but that would have been a pretty good excuse... *g* It always is very hard for me to torture anybody, I can't watch what I'm doing to them, it's horrible. But about Legolas ... let's just say that he might get his share of torture later ... might, mind you! It's a possibility, that's all I'm saying...   
NaughtyNat - Danke, gut geht's! *g* Your attempt wasn't pathetic, it was correct, well there was only that little apostrophe you forgot. It's "geht's", because it's short for "geht es". Well, I doubt that you wanted to know that, so I'll shut up now. We're all insane, don't worry about that. Aragorn is my favourite character as well and I WRITE the torture! What does that make me? *g*  
Imbefaniel - Well, as long as you don't shoot someone by accident, that's okay, isn't it? LOL, I think a pink leash would be perfect! Adn of course _I_ will hold it! *g* I am the mistress of this fic, but then again, it was your idea... *g*   
Jennifer - What happens next ...yes, that's a good question ... read on and you shall see! *g* Thanks for the review, they always help me a lot!  
ManuKu - Tja, wenn dir das mit dem regelmaessig posten nicht gefaellt, dann kann ich es ja aendern? Ich geh' nur schnell und sag' den anderen Bescheid, okay? *g* LOL, ich kann mir wunderbar vorstellen, wie Elrond Aragorn den 'look' beibringt... *g* 'Stupid stupid stupid' ist eine ziemlich gute Beschreibung, wenn ich's mir mal genau ueberlege... *G* Also gefiel dir der Cliffy? Das freut doch, und ich muss zugeben, dass ich wirklich ziemlich stolz auf ihn bin. Ja, Lomar ist der ortsansaeesige Fiesling, aber die naechsten warten schon in 'ner Schlange vor der Tuer... *g* 'Eine ordentliche Portion Nili'? Uhm, das ist doch ein nettes Kompliment - andererseits hoert es sich auch leicht kannibalistisch an... *g* Also, bitte nicht anknabbern!  
Arwen-Evenstar - Yeah well, I want him to live, don't I? I mean, Elrond is on the other side of the Misty Mountains, so he can't get hurt too badly... And I agree, Legolas is quite a mother hen - but then again, just imagine having to return to Rivendell to tell his familiy that he is dead... *shudders* No, I'd rather not, thank you, *g* Thanks for all the reviews!  
LeggyLover03 - *blinks* You wnat him to suffer even more? You are bloodthirsty, woman, you really are! I hate to disappoint you thought, but Aragorn isn't returning to Rivendell this story. I don't think he will get there next story either... So, no Elrond in the near future. Sorry. *g*  
Marbienl - *nods* Yeah, I like the comfort better, actually, the hurt is always so ... painful? I know, I know, d'oh, but this is the only thing I can think of to describe it. LOL, a 'blubbering, doubly traumatized puddle'? That's an interesting way of putting it, really... *blinks* Your Anca really likes Legoals, huh? *reads rest of review* What is wrong with you guys? You're far worse than me, really! I mean, you want him to call for Legolas and stuff, you are just so EVIL! But you're right, I could certainly imagine beating up Glorfindel for a change... *g* "It's not his fault he's stubborn – it's Elrond's!" LOL, so true, my friend! And don't worry, we will indeed have some Estel comfort! Thanks for the - once again - huge and long review!  
Cestari - Well, then you're lucky! Just Imagine I had posted this chapter a month ago, then you would have had to wait to read it - not that you would've done that anyway... *g* Well, I think I will watch "Pirates of the Carribean", but not really because of Orlando Bloom, more like because of Johnny Depp. I love Johnny Depp and I don't really like Orlando Bloom that much... *g*  
CrazyLOTRfan - Why did I do that? Uhm, because I'm evil and mean and evil and did I mention evil? And because I COULD?? Mhahahaha! *runs off cackling evilly* Oh... *face falls* The Canadians don't want a Nili Day? Funny, neither do the Germans - why is that? I have no idea, it would be sooo much fun!   
Alilacia - You gave blood? Good girl! I always wanted to do that as well, but I'm afraid of needles... *shakes head* Really, you should know me better than that! I mean, come on, I always let them get rescued just in the nick of time, don't I? *watches her jump around* You want Celylith to get hurt? Don't let Zam hear that! But he will get hurt, I'm afraid, I don't know yet what exactly will happen to him, but something will... *evil grin*   
XsilicaX - Yes, he is! Well, perhaps you are right though, he looks more like a mentally retarded badger - it's the teeth... *g* Glad you're back, really, and I was being serious when I said that I missed you! Really! *huggels Cathy*  
TigerLily713 - *g* Thanks! I am doing my best, but somtimes I have my problems with expressions and I think some of the sentences just sound awkward... h well, whatever. Thanks for all your lovely reviews!  
Aron - Wow, then you were away a rather long time! About a month, right? I hope you had lots of fun! Great you like it so much, but I don't feel sorry for Lomar at all! He is just an idiot - although I have to admit that I had lots of fun writing him ... hmm, what does that make me? Don't tell me, evil and sick, I know... *g* Pretty please with a cherry on top? Who coud resist that? Here's the next bit!  
Alisha - *sternly* And sorry you should be! But I have to admit it's a rather good excuse, and it's not as if it hadn't happened to me too, so: Yes, I will forgive you! Behold my kind heart! *g* No, really, it's okay. *g* Quite a lot of people liked that quote, and I assure you I wrote that knowing full well what that would make _me_ then: More than sick, actually. Glad you liked the steam bit though! *blinks* You thought it sweet when Aragorn remembered his encounter with Donyc&Co.? I thought it to be sad, but okay, if you think so... *g* *almost chockes on her Diet Coke with Lemon - you gotta love this stuff!* "Probably scare me enough to kill me" Uhm, what can I say? Huh, that's scary, _you're_ scary, that's what you are... *g* And I should catch Celylith in a net and stal his DNA? That's an interesting idea! *grabs net* See you later! And that's the reason why you put puppies on a leash, girl! Really... *runs off to get herself some elf DNA*  
Sue - *blushes* Thank you! Great you like it! But I resent the wicked, it's evil! That's what it is, evil! _I_ am evil! Mhahahaha! *runs off cackling evilly* And I don't 'endlessly' inflict pain upon them! Really, that's not fair! It's only a little bit of torture one in a while, that's all... *evil grin* And since we can't have you fall off your seat: Here's the next bit! Thanks for de-lurking, reviews really help me a lot! Plus I am addicted to them, but that's another story...  
One15 - *g* Danke! Da gibt man sich doch Muehe! *stellt sich vor, wie One vor Neugier vorm PC platzt* Uhm, interessante Idee... *kicher* Natuerlich willst du mich nicht unter Druck setzen, schon klar! *g* Hier ist schon der naechste Teil, animiert von dir und deinen Cheerleadern! Yay!  
Halo - Wohoo!!! Halo's back! I missed you and had thought something had happened to you, but then Cathy or someone else told me that you were away. *glomps right back* I missed you too! I have to agree with your assessments though: The baddies are in a whole lot of trouble, preciousss.... *evil grin*  
Maranwe - Oh, please do! I LOVE death threats! I know that I'm insane, don't tell me... *g* You stayed up till 6 in the morning to read this story? Wow, I'm impressed! Thanks! *g* Next chapter's here! Thank you for the review!  
TheGoddessAthena - Oh, the Goddess of Wisdom, huh? Do you have an owl? *g* But ... but ... *stammers* ... I _like_ cliffies! They are SO MUCH fun! And _I_ didn't turn Aragorn into a lobster, that was Lomar. And he did act on orders from my alter ego, I had nothing to do with that! Really! *g* Thanks for reviewing!  
Reginabean - I wouldn't say that I torture readers with the cliffies, that's the wrong word. It's more like teasing or something... *g* I hope you're not _too_ busy with your summer job, thanks for reviewing anyway!   
  
**Okay, I'm off to the cinema now. We will either watch "The Hulk" or "Bruce Almighty". It's kind of like being stuck between a rock and a hard place, huh? Anyway, thanks for all your wonderful reviews! And since I haven't hugged you last chapter, I will now! Thanks! *huggles reviewers***  
  
  
  
  



	13. Worth Dying For

**Disclaimer: **For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.  
  
  
**A/N:  
  
Wow, calm down, folks! I never said I was ****actually ****going to KILL Celylith, now did I? *shoots nervous glances at Zam Kenobi* I don't say that I haven't toyed with the idea, because I have, quite often to be honest, but I haven't decided yet what to do with him. So, he might get away with an injury or a little bit of torture, but then again, he might just as well end as Nólad II. No guarantees, sorry. *evil grin*  
  
Very well, now that's settled, time for another announcement:  
I will be visiting my friends in England between the 30th of July and the 1st of September. Yes, I know what you're thinking: Again? Can't she just stay in her own country, for crying out loud?   
The answer to that is that I love England and my friends, and that I need a vacation. Anyway, before you begin to threaten me with sharp, pointy objects: I want to get me a laptop in the next few weeks, and if I do, I will probably be able to keep posting. I don't know whether I will still be able to do it as frequently as now, but I'll try. So, no need to panic, right? *g* Okay then.  
  
Oh, and for all who wondered: "The Hulk" is a really, really, _really_ dumb movie. The story was stupid, the actors looked embarassed at being in the whole thing in the first place and what annoyed me to no end was that that stupid green person was jumping around like a giant kangaroo all the time!! *takes a deep breath* Really stupid and nothing but a waste of money.  
  
  
Okay, once I am able to free Celylith from Zam's wardrobe, we will have the next chapter, in which the poor guys finally get a break.** **They really need that from time to time, don't you think? *g*  
  
  
Have fun and review, please!**  
  
  
  


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Chapter 13  
  
  
"Are you serious?"  
  
Aragorn raised a dark eyebrow, looking at his elven friend intently, searching for any signs that would indicate that Legolas was joking.  
  
"I am," the elven prince nodded, ignoring Celylith's grin. He had in fact asked the 'Fox' the exact same thing yesterday evening.  
  
Aragorn turned to the only other occupant of the room, wincing slightly when he moved his left arm.  
"Is he serious?"  
  
"He is," the silver haired elf said, a smile beginning to spread over his features. These two were really too much alike sometimes.  
  
"But Legolas, please!" the young ranger exclaimed, shaking his head slightly, one hand already beginning to sneak up to fiddle with the bandage there. Legolas' hand shot out and grabbed the human's wrist, pressing it down. The dark haired man glowered at the prince. "He told you a fairy tale to keep you happy, that's all."  
  
"Oh, no," Legolas shook his head, smiling mirthlessly. "He most certainly did not, my friend. He was too afraid that Celylith would eat him to lie to us."  
  
Aragorn did a double-take, blinking slowly. He didn't even want to know, he decided after a second, he just didn't want to know. Slowly he was beginning to understand why his father didn't even bother to listen to their stories; not knowing certainly had its advantages.  
  
"I see," he mumbled quietly, giving both elves dubious looks. "So you believe him?"  
  
"Yes," Legolas nodded and added, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, "The reason why everybody in this town wants to kill us is," he injected a dramatic pause and grinned at his companions, "a buried treasure!"  
  
Aragorn simply snorted, leaning back into his pillows.  
"Come now, Legolas, that is the stupidest thing I have heard in a long time!"  
  
"No, Aragorn, think about it," Legolas said, turning serious again. "It explains a lot, actually. You said yourself that all men desire money. And it would explain why Gwemyr disappeared so quietly."  
  
"But, Legolas! A treasure! What kind of treasure? And where? Whom does it belong to?"  
  
The fair haired elf sat back into his chair, grimacing slightly.  
"I don't know all the answers to these questions myself."  
  
"Well, what _do_ you know?" Aragorn asked exasperatedly. Sometimes the elvish habit of avoiding questions or only answering in riddles became most annoying indeed, even to him. Besides, his chest hurt fiercely, as did his head, but he would most certainly not tell Legolas. His friend would only use that for an excuse to drug him again, and sleeping for an entire day was more than enough in his opinion.  
  
Legolas hadn't missed the undertone in the human's voice, and he leaned forward again, a suspicious look in his eyes.  
"How do you feel?"  
  
"I'm fine," Aragorn sighed a little bit too quickly, refusing to meet his friend's gaze.  
  
The elven prince merely snorted. Snorting, Aragorn decided, was one of his father's habits that was slowly but surely threatening to get out of control. Every person or more precisely elf that was spending any time in the Lord of Rivendell's company was quickly adopting that particular trait. It was quite unsettling, really.  
  
Celylith gave the young human an evil look.  
"That would be 'fine'-fine, I presume?"  
  
Aragorn returned the glare in kind but didn't answer. He looked up alarmed when Legolas nodded at his elven friend who in turn quickly began to mix yet another foul potion in a goblet. He was beginning to _hate_ that goblet, he decided.  
  
"No," he stated flatly, locking eyes with the elven prince.  
  
"No what, human?" Legolas asked, obviously enjoying this opportunity to mother his friend immensely.  
  
"No, I am not drinking that," the ranger shook his head, looking stubbornly at his friends.  
  
"Yes, you are," Legolas smiled at the man, but there was a steely glint in his gaze.  
  
"No, I'm not."  
  
"Yes, you ar…"  
  
"Elbereth!" Celylith exclaimed, rolling his eyes at them. "You are adults, both of you!" He turned to Aragorn, forcing the cup into his hands. "Stop being so difficult and just drink it!" The young ranger opened his mouth to protest, and so he added, "I have to change the bandages, and this will dull your senses. There is no need for you to go through this kind of pain. I promise it will not send you to sleep."  
  
Inwardly, he added,   
  
'Not instantly, anyway.'  
  
That was true enough, he thought with a mental shrug. Well, yes, maybe the potion made humans sleepy, but that little detail would just have slipped his mind.  
  
Aragorn scowled at the two elves, staring with hateful eyes at the cup in his right hand. He would get them for this, one of these days he was going to get them…  
  
"Fine," he snapped finally, taking a sip of the concoction. "But only if you tell me what the 'Fox' told you, and I mean word by word. Otherwise I will not touch it again, and not even the Valar could convince me!"  
  
Legolas couldn't quite hide a smile when he imagined Aragorn argue with Manwë and Varda, the greatest amongst the Kings and Queens of the Valar. He could just imagine the ranger shaking his head no while the greatest of the Valar tried to make him understand that he really, _really_ needed to take his medicine.  
  
"Alright," he agreed, putting his hand under the base of the cup and forcing the man to empty it. "I will tell you."  
  
Celylith was already beginning to unpack his healing utensils, rummaging through his pack searching for the salve Lord Elrond had left behind. He grabbed a small pile of bandages and put them next to the marigold lotion he had brewed yesterday morning while the young ranger had been sleeping.  
  
While he was still readying his things, waiting for the potion to take effect, he listened to Legolas' voice that was beginning to recount what they had done yesterday evening, going to great lengths to describe the way they had 'convinced' the 'Fox' to tell them all that he knew.  
  
A few minutes later, Aragorn asked, trying to suppress the laughter that was threatening to overtake him,  
  
"You … you threatened to drink his blood?"  
  
Celylith looked up from the bandages and grinned, the cut on his forehead already fading.  
"Well, I haven't had any since those prisoners we took when we brought you back to the palace." He grinned even more broadly when he saw the wide-eyed look on the human's face. "You didn't really think we turned them over to the Men of Dale, did you?"  
  
"You are scary," Aragorn stated seriously, shaking his head. "Really scary. Even I believed you there for a second."  
  
"I told you the 'Fox' hadn't lied to us," Legolas grinned at him. "After that he was most forthcoming, in fact."   
  
"What exactly did he say?" Aragorn leaned forward, almost not noticing that Celylith was carefully beginning to unwrap the bandages that wound around his torso. He knew that Legolas was talking to him to keep him distracted, and to be perfectly honest, he didn't even mind.  
  
The elven prince turned serious, frowning when he tried to remember what exactly the man had told them.  
"Well, as I said, he claimed that this is all about a treasure. He didn't know what kind of treasure, only that the late Drabo started talking about it; that was about two weeks ago. They apparently got drunk together, and then Drabo started boasting about how he and his friends would become rich very soon, without having to do anything about it."  
  
Legolas grimaced in disgust before he continued.  
  
"Apparently, the 'Fox' listened closely to what Drabo had to say, and according to him, that wasn't that much either. He only said that Gwemyr knew of a treasure that would serve to make them all rich men, and that he knew the way there. The 'Fox' told his employer, who in turn approached Master Gwemyr and his friends with a business proposal: He would give them money, horses and provisions and would provide guards, and they would in turn hand over a part of what they'd find. He claims that Gwemyr accepted, because he and his friends were loath to ask their families for money."  
  
"So he did leave on his own account?" Aragorn asked, keeping his face carefully neutral while Celylith was cleaning the already healing burns. His father's salve was really doing wonders for the burns, but if this was what it felt like when his senses were dulled, then he would hate to experience it undrugged.  
  
"More or less," Legolas answered, thoughtfully. "The 'Fox's' employer was apparently rather persistent that they didn't inform their families. That the men came here and asked questions should avert suspicion from their master, and it did, as you will remember. But there's more."  
  
"Yes?" the young ranger asked through clenched teeth, fighting the very tempting urge to beat his head against the mattress to deal with the pain. He was sure that Celylith did what he could, but right now he longed for nothing more than be home in his own bed and to hear the soothing voice of his father and the bad jokes of his brothers.  
  
The silver haired elf stopped his ministrations and looked at him worriedly.  
"Estel? I am sorry for causing you pain, but this has to be done. Would you like a sleeping potion that…"  
  
At the grim look the human shot him he fell silent and shrugged lightly.  
"As you wish. I will try to get this over with as quickly as possible."  
  
"Aragorn?" Legolas asked worriedly as well, and the young ranger had to bite back a sarcastic remark. He hated it when people spoke his name as if he might shatter if they talked a bit more loudly.  
  
"I'm fine," he said flatly, not caring whether he was believed or not. "Please, go on."  
  
The elven prince shot him an dubious look but complied.  
"Well, as I said, they weren't allowed to inform their families. But the 'Fox' told us that his employer has other plans for them as well. The guards that has been sent with Gwemyr and his friends have the orders to kill them once they have led them to the hiding place."  
  
"Nobody would know," Aragorn nodded and hid a sigh of relief when Celylith was beginning to rewrap his chest, doing his best to stop his body from shaking. Staying awake was becoming more difficult by the second, and he was beginning to suspect that it had been a sleeping potion after all.  
One of these days, he decided again, he was going to get Celylith for those accursed concoctions of his. One day soon, very soon.  
  
"Precisely," the fair haired elf agreed, nodding his head. "Owaeran's competitor would get all without doing anything for it. A treasure without having to look for, dig for it, endanger oneself for it. It is perfect. Apparently worth dying for, and worth killing for."  
  
"And what about the … other group?" Aragorn asked, wincing inwardly at the memories these words conjured. "Did he say anything about them?"  
  
Celylith fastened the end of the last bandage and shook his head.  
"No, even though I was looking_ very_ hungry at that point. All he could tell us was that there had been a group of men in the town at about the same time that had been asking more or less the same questions we did. He didn't know where they came from or even how many there were, but they disappeared about eight days ago after they had shown a special interest in the good Master Drabo. Two days later, his body showed up in the lake."  
  
"So," Aragorn said quietly, forcing his mind back to the present, "What do we do now? Do you know where this treasure is supposed to be or whom it belongs to?"  
  
"Yes and no," Legolas nodded, smiling grimly. "The 'Fox' told us that he didn't know whose treasure it was, and he didn't seem to care either. That was the reason he was so afraid of elves, by the way, he thought we had come to claim the treasure for our own." He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "But he told us where it was, or at least what he knew." He paused slightly before adding, "He claims it is near Dale."  
  
"Dale," Aragorn mumbled, finding that his eyes were beginning to slide shut. Prying them open, he glared at Celylith before turning to look at the elven prince. "When do we leave?"  
  
"Leave?" Legolas exclaimed, looking at the young human as if he had just told him that he wanted to become a hermit and would go and live in a shed in the Misty Mountains from now on. "Leave? You are not going anywhere!"  
  
"Legolas," Aragorn said quietly, forcing his tired brain to co-operate, "We cannot let them kill these men! We have got to try and help them, and only Ilúvatar knows what will happen if the third group arrives on the scene."  
  
"Help them so you can get into even more trouble," Celylith muttered, shaking his head. He turned to Legolas. "Please, my lord, do not listen to him! He is weak and in pain and is not thinking clearly, that much is obvious. I will not return to the king dragging your bodies behind! Please, just send a message to the King of Dale and let them take care of this! This is none of our business."  
  
The elven prince turned to his friend, an eyebrow arched incredulously.  
"None of our business? Have you already forgotten what they have done to Aragorn?"  
  
The aforementioned human rolled his eyes in annoyance, battling with the sleepiness that was threatening to cloud his senses. If he hated one thing, then it was being spoken about as if he wasn't even in the same room.  
"I don't want any of us to get into trouble because of me."  
  
"Well, I do!" Legolas shot back, eyes gleaming with a hidden fire. "I will not let them get away with this! They will pay, every single one of them! Of course it is our business! We will leave as soon as you are healthy enough."  
  
Aragorn only snickered sleepily while Celylith rolled his eyes, muttering in frustration, and Legolas realised that he had just contradicted his own statement. Cursing himself for his own stupidity, he hastily added,  
  
"And I mean healthy enough, reckless human. You will rest and stay in bed and drink the medicine we give you, or I will send you back to the palace with Celylith."  
  
"What?" Celylith exclaimed, eyes wide and unbelieving.  
  
"You wouldn't," Aragorn mumbled, already on the verge of sleep. "You couldn't make me if I don't want to, stubborn elf."  
  
"Yes, I could and I would," Legolas confirmed, ignoring his elven friend's indignant spluttering, "If you are rested enough we can leave in a few days."  
  
"The day after tomorrow," Aragorn corrected, his voice already so soft that the elves could hardly understand him.  
  
"In a few days," the fair haired elf repeated and pulled his friend's covers up his chin. "Now sleep."  
  
The young ranger only smiled slightly as his breathing evened out and he fell back asleep, and Legolas leaned back in his armchair. As rewarding a task as drugging the man was, he would have to be careful during the next few days. Aragorn hated being drugged with a passion, and there was no telling what he would do once he was strong enough to stand on his own feet again.  
  
Celylith's voice drew him out of his thoughts.  
"You were not serious, were you?"  
  
Legolas shook his head and raised his eyes to meet his friend's.  
"I was, Celylith. Somebody needs to inform my father of our plans, otherwise he will really send a guard corps after us, and I really would like to prevent that. You must go."  
  
The silver haired elf shook his head, and Legolas was taken aback by the stubborn glint in the other's eyes.  
"No."  
  
"No?" he asked incredulously. Never before had Celylith disobeyed one of his orders, if one ignored the spider incident a few weeks before, that was.  
  
"No," Celylith repeated, narrowing his eyes. "I cannot do that, my lord, I am sorry. I have promised the king not to let yourself or the ranger get killed, and I will keep that promise. And I cannot protect the two of you if you go alone to yet another human town where probably even more persons will want to kill you! I will not allow that."  
  
"Celylith…" Legolas began, but he was quickly interrupted by the firm voice of his childhood friend.  
  
"No, Legolas. I will not leave, and you cannot order me to. Please do not make me break a promise to your father. I would rather die myself than return to him bearing the news of your death."  
  
The fair haired elf studied his friend's resolute face for a moment before he sighed deeply.  
"Very well then. I assume I really could use help to keep an eye on that reckless human."  
  
Celylith grinned at him, obviously relieved he wouldn't have to defy his friend's commands.  
"Only on him, my friend? I distinctly remember having to fish you out of the lake not too long ago."  
  
"Really?" Legolas retorted, smiling slightly. "I cannot remember that…" He turned serious again and looked at his elven friend. "If you do not go to inform my father, then who will? We have to tell _ada_, otherwise he will inform Lord Elrond and both of them will be coming after us. If we are unlucky they might even bring Glorfindel and the twins."  
  
Celylith shuddered slightly at the mere thought. That would be horrible indeed.  
"Well, my lord, I am sure you will think of something. You are the prince, after all."  
  
"Oh, now I am the prince?" Legolas asked teasingly.   
  
"You always are, Legolas," the silver haired elf replied seriously. "And therefore it is my duty to protect you as well as I am able, and I intend to do just that, or die trying." He looked at his prince, blue eyes dark as night. "And it would be well worth it."  
  
Legolas smiled at his friend, gratitude and annoyance in his gaze.  
"Thank you, Celylith," he said, reaching out of put a hand on the other elf's shoulder. "I know you would, my friend, I know. I realise that I don't make it very easy on you either, but I am perfectly capable of looking after myself. Now that we know what we are up against, Estel and I will be fine, you'll see."  
  
Celylith look at him with serious eyes, a frown creasing his brow.  
  
"I hope so, Legolas. I pray to the Valar that you are right, for if this was only the beginning, I seriously doubt that any of us will live to see the next spring."  
  
  
  
  
Later that same day, Legolas sat in Owaeran's study, looking calmly at the man that was staring at him as if he had just turned into a cave troll and back.  
  
After another minute or two which Legolas had used to count the wooden panels behind the man's back – twenty-six, to be exact – the blonde man regained his ability to speak and promptly used it.  
  
"Are you insane?" he exclaimed and added after a heartbeat's pause rather hastily, "Prince Legolas." He took a deep breath and continued. "Please, my lord, you cannot be serious! You will get yourselves killed!"  
  
Another horrifying thought occurred to him.  
"And I would have to inform your father!"  
  
"No, you wouldn't, Master Human," Legolas explained patiently, asking himself dryly if his father was truly so fearsome that the mere mention of his name turned most beings into quivering heaps on the ground. "I will find a way to notify him myself. Don't you want to help your brother?"  
  
Owaeran's eyes seemed to light up angrily at that.  
"Of course I wish to! How dare you even suggest that I would not? I love my brother, and nothing he does could make me abandon him, despite what you obviously want to imply…"  
  
"Peace, Master Owaeran," the elf raised his hands in an appeasing gesture. "I did not mean to insult you or your brother, please forgive me if I have. I meant no offence."  
  
The elderly human ran a hand through his hair in frustration.  
"No, please forgive me, Master Elf. I am angry and afraid for Gwemyr, I did not think before speaking. Of course I want to help my brother, but I don't want you to get hurt in the process. This does not concern you."  
  
"There you err," Legolas replied and leaned forward slightly, his eyes boring into the trader's. "It does concern me. It became a concern to Mirkwood the moment I heard about various groups stirring up unrest so close to our borders. It became a concern to us the moment we heard that there had been people murdered for none other reason than because they knew your brother. And it became a concern to me personally the moment my friends were attacked. I do not suffer my friend to be hurt. Those responsible will pay for their actions, and I will certainly not allow them to hurt others as well!"  
  
"But … but…" Owaeran spluttered, not even knowing why he even tried to argue with this elf. The prince was so much like his father, the King of Mirkwood, that it was almost scary, the same quick temper, the same pride and the same stubbornness. He almost buried his face in his hands. Why couldn't King Thranduil just keep his offspring in his woods where it belonged?  
  
"My lord," the human began cautiously, "I understand your motives, and of course I do not want to see my brother or anyone else hurt, but you should reconsider. You have already gone through more than enough only because of my brother's folly."  
  
"As I said, Master Owaeran," the fair haired elf shook his head slightly, "It is too late for that now. The decision is made; we will leave in a few days, if that is acceptable for you."  
  
The man closed his eyes and counted slowly to five, suppressing the urge to scream. He _wanted_ to help his brother of course, he _wanted_ to prevent anyone else from getting hurt, but what he did _not _want was explain to the Elvenking that his son and his two companions had died because of his, Master trader Owaeran's brother. His mortal brother, his human brother, his brother that would be responsible for robbing the king of his immortal son and heir.  
  
"There is no way to dissuade you from this course of action then?" he asked, opening his eyes again.  
  
"None," the prince confirmed with a thin smile.  
  
Owaeran clenched his teeth and inwardly cursed the House of Oropher and the elven race in general. If there were more irritating beings in Middle-Earth, which he doubted, by the way, he had never met them. Elves could be incredibly haughty and infuriating, not to mention so stubborn that it astounded him time and again, even after all these years of trading with the wood-elves.  
  
"I am not in the least surprised," he managed with a forced smile, sighing in defeat. "When do you wish to leave?"  
  
"In two to three days, I think," Legolas replied, hiding a smile. That human was on the verge of strangling him, he was sure of it. "It depends on how quickly the ranger will be well enough to travel."  
  
"How is he?" Owaeran leaned forward, placing both of his hands on the desktop, either in an attempt to calm himself or restrain himself from strangling the stubborn elf in front of his desk.  
  
"As well as can be expected," the blonde elf replied and smiled slightly. "He is already complaining about the bandages, the medicine, about having to stay in bed, about being treated like a child…"  
  
The man chuckled quietly.  
"That sounds very much like my daughter when she gets sick. He is still young, and young ones are the same everywhere, I think."  
  
"That they are, Master Human," Legolas nodded and made a mental note to tell Aragorn that he had just been compared to a seventeen-year-old girl. That should garner an … interesting reaction, that much was sure.  
  
"I will provide you with provisions, of course," Owaeran added thoughtfully, obviously already planning their journey. "Do you think you will find our way to Dale or should I hire a guide for you?"  
  
Legolas thought about it for a second before answering.  
"Well, essentially all you have to do is follow the River Running upstream to Erebor, haven't you?"  
  
"That is correct," the elderly man nodded. "Much of the destruction the dragon dealt out is already gone, and the lands are becoming fair and green as they once were. It can still be dangerous though, for some paths will lead you to a swift death if you are not careful."  
  
"We will be fine," the fair haired prince stated firmly. "It has been some decades since I last set foot in the valley of Dale, but I think I will find my way there. Your offer is greatly appreciated though."  
  
"That is the least I can do," the trader stated, inwardly adding that it might convince the woodland king that he had done everything in his power to help his son. He had no misguided notions of King Thranduil's reaction though, he would probably still order to have him thrown into the dungeons for the rest of his life. Thoughtfully, he muttered, "And I think I will have to chain Seobryn to the house. He is rather fond of you and especially the ranger. He will not be happy about being left behind."  
  
"No," Legolas replied, rising from his seat and moving into the direction of the door after a small polite bow to the blonde man behind the desk. "He will not be. But is it more than enough to have one irresponsible, reckless youth with us, I will not take a second one with me. Besides, I do not think that he will be so averse to staying here, in my opinion he has come to treasure … your … company."  
  
The blonde elf moved swiftly out of the room, an unreadable expression on his face, and Owaeran remained behind, asking himself three things.  
  
First, why the elf thought that Strider was the only reckless, irresponsible being in the group, second, what in the name of the One he had meant by that last remark, and third, what he, Owaeran, had done to deserve all this.  
  
  
  
  
Seobryn was not happy, that much was true. In fact, he was rather unhappy, not to say extremely irritated.  
  
He tried to argue with Aragorn and even the two elves during the next two days, and not even the thought of spending the next few weeks with Seveawen – with whom he was now on speaking terms, much to everyone's surprise – could cheer him up. In the end, it was the duty that bound him to Owaeran as his apprentice that convinced him to stay behind, and even that he did highly unwillingly.  
  
But Legolas stayed firm; he refused to go to Dale with two reckless young men, and to that opinion he held, even though it earned him a snicker from Celylith every time he mentioned it and deadly glares from Aragorn and Seobryn.  
  
Aragorn was, as expected of course, the most annoying patient one could imagine, and Legolas found himself hard-pressed not to drug his friend again. The healing burns hurt and itched, his aching head threatened to explode on his shoulders and his whole body twitched from lying still in a bed the whole time, or so the young ranger claimed.  
  
Celylith was very glad that Legolas head was almost healed, even though his ribs were still giving him some trouble. There was no way he would be able to deal with both of them at once, he stated more than once.  
  
It was on the day before their departure that Legolas and Celylith allowed the young man to get up, and they could stop hardly stop him from seizing this chance to escape them and their 'mothering attitude'. They caught up with him when he was about to sneak out of the house with Seobryn's help, who had obviously decided that he needed to aid the ranger since the two elves had an unfair advantage over him.  
  
Glaring darkly at both of the young men, Legolas and Celylith dragged their human friend back to his room and forced him to lie down again, and Aragorn even complied rather quickly, feeling rather exhausted after his little escape attempt.  
  
"But I almost made it," he stated gleefully, swatting Celylith's hand away that was trying to press the hated goblet with the pain killing drug into his hands. "Stop that please, I won't drink it this time. The burns are healed enough as it is."  
  
The silver haired elf looked at his elven friend, who simply shrugged. If Aragorn wanted to have his bandages changed without the aid of pain-reducing potions, then he was welcome to try.  
  
"You're a horror, Aragorn," Legolas stated, stopping himself from running his hand through his braided hair. Suddenly he understood very well how Lord Elrond and Hithrawyn had to feel all the time. "If you do that again, I swear I will send you back to Mirkwood."  
  
The young man only snorted.  
"You are just angry that it took you so long to catch up with me."  
  
"But we did," Celylith stated firmly, unwrapping the linen strips that wound round the man's chest.  
  
"I knew I shouldn't have asked Seobryn for help," Aragorn muttered, his eyes growing wide when the elf began to clean the burns. "He couldn't sneak up on a troll."  
  
Legolas watched the stoic face of his friend, shaking his head. Of course the ministrations hurt the dark haired ranger, but he was too stubborn to admit that. Once again he asked himself how it was possible for one of the Second People to be so incredibly stubborn.  
  
Just when he was about to tell his friend that he would take the potion, now, whether he liked it or not, a knock sounded on the door and a servant carefully peered inside the room.  
"I am very sorry to disturb you, sirs, but there is an elf downstairs that wants to talk to all of you. He says he is being expected."  
  
Legolas smiled at the man, giving an inward sigh of relief. So they had got the message, very good…  
"Yes, indeed he is. Please, show him up here."  
  
Aragorn blanched. That was the very last thing he wanted, to have a strange elf see him like this.  
"Legolas, couldn't you…"  
  
"No, _dúnadan_, I cannot. Anardir is an old friend, I know him from my warrior training. Besides, this is your fault, and do you know why?" His hand shot out with lightening fast reflexes to grab his human friend's right shoulder and pin it to the bed when the ranger couldn't suppress his body's reactions any longer and unconsciously jerked away from Celylith's touch. He gave the man an exasperated smile. "This is why. Had you only taken the potion, I could speak to Anardir downstairs. This way I will have to help Celylith and he will have to come here, young one."  
  
Aragorn glared daggers at the grinning elf, all pain forgotten.  
"Do not call me young! I am not young!"  
  
"Yes, you are, Estel," Legolas replied laughing, tightening his grip on the young man's shoulder. "Now stop squirming, one could think that our dear friend Celylith here is trying to murder you."  
  
Celylith looked up from where he was carefully applying a healing salve to the burns, which really looked much better already. He gave Aragorn his best Sadistic-mass-murderer-on-the-run-grin.   
"Who, me?" he asked friendly, ignoring Legolas' pealing laughter. "Whatever gave you that idea, my lord?"  
  
Aragorn glared at the silver haired elf.  
"I had trusted you to be at least a bit more subtle."  
  
Celylith grinned even more broadly at the indignant human, once again turning back to the task at hand when he heard the footsteps of the servant draw closer.  
"Oh, but why ruin such an enjoyable thing with something as boring as subtlety?"  
  
Aragorn's glare even darkened at that, if such a thing was even possible.  
"You…"  
  
Another soft knock on the door interrupted what had promised to become a rather inventive curse, and all three turned towards the door. The servant was back, followed by a tall, rather anxious looking elf with golden hair that swept down his back. The man excused himself while the elf bowed before Legolas, who had got up from the edge of the ranger's bed to greet him.  
  
"My prince," the elf said respectfully, but his deferent tone changed quickly when he took a closer look at the fading mark at the side of the elven prince's head and the bruises and wounds that could clearly be seen on the young ranger's face and torso that was right now in the process of being re-bandaged by Celylith who sported a deep cut running across his forehead.  
  
"I knew it!" he exclaimed, giving all three of them a reproachful look. As if to himself, he added, "Wonderful, there goes my favourite dagger." He remembered his manners and nodded at Aragorn and the other elf. "Strider. Celylith."  
  
Legolas raised an eyebrow and sat down in his armchair, motioning the other elf to do the same.  
"Anardir?"  
  
"Oh, nothing, my lord," the other elf retorted. "Just a little discussion a friend of mine and I had earlier, nothing of great importance."  
  
"I see," Legolas muttered unconvinced, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Did you all get here safely or is the river already frozen over?"   
  
Anardir was one of the elves that spent most of their time travelling from Mirkwood and Lake-town and back, returning the empty barrels the merchants had brought back to the Lake-men. The barrels that were not needed anymore left the palace via a stream that joined the Forest River a little bit further away from the palace, for the river flowed under part of the palace and could be reached through large trapdoors in the cellars. The barrels that were thrown into the river were collected by elves a little bit downstream and, tied together and used as rafts, the wood-elves brought them back to their place of origin where they were eventually refilled and carted back to the halls of the woodland king.  
  
"'Twas a safe, albeit rather uncomfortable journey, my lord," Anardir replied. "It was the last one this year using the rafts though, in a week the surface will be frozen solid. We will have to use the sledges then."  
  
If the river was frozen, the elves used large sledges to bring the barrels downstream, a highly enjoyable pastime. Legolas resolved to do this once they were back at the palace; it was something he had always wanted to show his human friend.  
  
"Very good," the elven prince nodded, a slightly calculating look stealing over his eyes. "My friend…" Legolas began.  
  
Anardir almost winced inwardly. Legolas could be scary indeed if he wanted something from you, and he was rather sure that this was something King Thranduil wouldn't approve of. That brought him back to the condition the prince and the young ranger were in, and the wince turned into something of a whimper. If the king saw them in this shape, he would be … unhappy. Very unhappy, to say the least.  
  
'I will not ask what happened, I will not ask what happened, I will not…'  
  
"Anardir?" Legolas questioned again. He was beginning to get worried about the other elf; he was behaving very strangely today.  
  
"Yes, my lord?" the golden haired elf retorted, forcing himself to look at his prince. "Please, do continue."  
  
The other elf shot him an odd look, but began to speak again.  
"My friend," Legolas once again began, "It is correct that you are returning home tomorrow?"  
  
"Yes, your Highness," Anardir nodded, giving Celylith and Strider a cursory look. The silver haired elf had finished bandaging the other's wounds, and both were looking at him with a pitiful sparkle in their eyes that did not bode well for his future.  
  
"Wonderful!" Legolas exclaimed and added so quickly that the others could hardly separate the words, "Then-you-won't-mind-informing-my-father-that-we-will-go-to-Dale-will-you? Thank-you-very-much-my-friend-I-knew-I-could-count-on-you."  
  
The elven prince turned back to his friends as if this matter were closed, causing the golden haired elf to stare at him stunned. After a few seconds, Anardir had separated the words and assembled them into sentences that were slowly beginning to make horrifying sense.  
  
"What?" he blurted out, jumping to his feet and looking at the three beings in front of him. "Yes! I mean no! I mean, there is no way I am telling him that!"  
  
Legolas turned back to him, a sad smile on his lips, and Anardir realised with a heavy heart that he had already lost this fight. The fair haired elf would simply order him and that was it.  
"I am sorry, Anardir, but it is of the utmost importance that we leave for Dale as soon as possible. That you and your men arrived here yesterday was but a lucky coincidence."  
  
"Lucky?" the other elf asked incredulously, slight panic beginning to colour his thoughts now. "_Lucky_? Forgive me, my prince, but I cannot see at all what is lucky about all this! Do you know what the king will say? Do you know what the king will _do_?"  
  
Legolas winced slightly. He could very well imagine that. He walked over to a small desk and picked up an envelope made of fine parchment, the clear, flowing Tengwar letters shining crisp and black against the yellowish paper. He handed it to Anardir who took it with a scared look on his fair face.  
  
"Here," the prince explained, "Everything is explained in this letter. Tell the king that we are sorry and will return as soon as we can."  
  
Anardir looked at the envelope with a sigh, trying very hard not to scream in frustration. This was not fair, Ilúvatar, it was not fair! Why him? What had he done? Suddenly the Grey Havens seemed like a very desirable place to be.  
  
"As you command, my lord," he said, getting back to his feet and stopped himself from glaring darkly at the fair haired elf. Legolas was his prince, after all, so he owed him his obedience and respect. But still, he decided, as soon as the other elves and the ranger would have returned to Mirkwood, he would make them pay for this. He didn't know how yet, but he would think of something. Oh yes, he would…  
  
Anardir bowed slightly and turned to the door, disappearing soundlessly out of the room. After a moment Aragorn began to grin and he turned to his elven friends.  
  
"He was not happy," he stated, chuckling quietly. "Elbereth, rarely have I seen someone this mortified."  
  
"I just wonder what he meant with 'There goes my favourite dagger'," Legolas wondered aloud.  
  
At that Celylith began to laugh loudly, giving both of them sly looks. After a slap that Legolas had aimed at his forehead the silver haired elf managed to calm down slightly, and he leaned forward in his armchair, wiping tears of mirth out of his eyes.  
  
"You mean you didn't know?" he asked, looking at both of them as if they had just stated that they wanted to move to Dol Guldur.   
  
"Know what?" Aragorn and Legolas asked simultaneously.  
  
Celylith began to chuckle again, but a warning glare from his prince caused him to calm down once more.  
"The younger warriors have a … bet going, I'm afraid," he stated, looking as earnestly as he could. He didn't see a reason to mention that there were in fact more than one bet, and that he himself was participating in quite a few of them.  
  
"A bet?" Legolas asked, both of his eyebrows moving into the direction of his hairline.  
  
"Yes, my lord," Celylith confirmed. "It is about which of you will manage to get himself injured first. And who will end up dragging the other to the healers." He noticed the dark looks on his companions' faces and added hastily, "Or something like that. I don't rightly know, I am of course not interested in frivolities such as these."  
  
"Of course not," Aragorn mumbled under his breath.  
  
Celylith gave the man a dark look before he looked innocently at his elven friend.  
"I think I will go to the stables and see how the horses are doing."  
  
Before any of them could say a word, he had disappeared out of the door. Legolas turned to Aragorn, eyebrows still raised.  
  
"A bet?" he asked incredulously. "A bet? I will have to have a word with them, I think… It is disrespectful to bet about such things! Not to mention that the warriors shouldn't bet about their superiors."  
  
"If we had known sooner we could have placed a few bets ourselves," Aragorn muttered thoughtfully.  
  
"What?" Legolas exclaimed, staring at the human in disbelief.  
  
"It would be easy," the dark haired ranger insisted, leaning back against the wooden headrest. "You know, we could simply place a bet on me dragging you back to the palace and then…"  
  
"Then what?" the elven prince asked, unconsciously shifting back in his armchair.  
  
"Oh, you could have an accident or something," the young man shrugged, grinning at him evilly. "You know, just before we reached the gates you could fall off your horse or something similar. I would bring you back to the palace and we would have won."  
  
"I do not fall off horses, human!" Legolas retorted, eyes flashing in mock anger. "You wouldn't dare."  
  
"I wouldn't?" Aragorn asked, an amused smile playing about his lips. "Are you so sure about that?"  
  
The fair haired elf shook his head as he got up and began to pack his bags for tomorrow's journey. He was just stuffing his spare tunics into one of the bags when he said,  
  
"No, to be honest I am not. You are Elladan's and Elrohir's brother, after all. One can never be sure with you three, son of Elrond."  
  
Legolas turned to his human friend and gave him a slight smile.  
"Now rest before I knock you out myself. We will leave tomorrow, and I really do not want to pick you off the ground because you are too exhausted to stay on your horse."  
  
Aragorn merely raised an eyebrow at that and leaned back into the pillows, turning serious.  
"Do you really think there is a treasure?" he asked thoughtfully.  
  
The elf put down the bags he had already packed and shrugged.  
"I am not entirely sure, but it would explain a lot. I can understand Gwemyr's actions, and the 'Fox's' employer as well, to a certain degree, but I somehow cannot understand the third group."  
  
"Why not?" the other asked, arching a dark eyebrow.  
  
"They … they are not your typical treasure hunters," Legolas explained with a helpless shrug. "Believe me, my friend, I have seen many of them, and they are too … organised, I think. Besides, that … man in the warehouse," he glanced at Aragorn's carefully emotionless expression, and was interrupted by his friend's soft voice.  
  
"Lomar," the young ranger said softly, closing his eyes.  
  
Legolas winced and cursed himself for bringing up this topic, but knew better than to change the subject now. Aragorn would not appreciate this 'over-protective' behaviour.  
  
"Lomar," he repeated quietly, inwardly cursing the man in all the tongues he knew for hurting his friend like this. "He killed himself." He looked at Aragorn's surprised face. "I forgot to tell you earlier, it seemed hardly important. He pushed the knife into his own heart, so afraid was he to get captured. He feared something or someone, Aragorn, and he feared it so much that he was willing to die rather than take the risk of being forced to tell us about it."  
  
The elf looked at the young human with serious eyes.  
"They are not normal treasure hunters, believe me. There is something more to this, and my heart tells me that it cannot be good."  
  
"There I agree," Aragorn nodded slowly. He turned to the elf, silver eyes emotionless. "Then who or what do you think they are?"  
  
"I don't know," Legolas answered, frowning in thought. "I don't know yet, but I have the rather distinct feeling that we are going to find out."  
  
He looked at the young ranger, suppressing another feeling, namely that they were all going to get into real trouble before this was over.  
  
  
  
  
  
**TBC...**  
  
  
  
  
  
_ada - father (daddy)  
dúnadan - 'Man of the West', ranger_  
  
  
  
  
***sighs* And again, no cliffy! I think I have caught the 'be-nice-to-your-readers-virus' again, I think there are no decent cliffies for a few chapters now! I'm sorry about that, guys, really, but my alter ego's on vacation right now. *g* So, next chapter's going to be interesting, since ... *drums* ... Estel's finally talking about his nightmares! Not quite voluntarily, but hey, who cares... *evil grin* So, send me a review to get the chapter out sooner! It really works, try it out and see for yourselves! Please?  
  
  
  
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**Additional A/N:  
  
**Coreinha - 'The brilliant reviewer'? Who are you talking about? I really don't know... *g* Okay, okay, only joking! Really! *gulps* 'Minor grammatical errors'? Where are they? Please tell me, I had the feeling that were a couple of things that sounded odd! I really hate it when that happens, but a few always slip through, I have no idea how they do it either... Hmm, and I kinda liked the other name better, but well, this one isn't bad either... *g*  
Fliewatuet - *hangs head* Yeah, I know, but not even C&S update every day. So I don't have to either! Don't tell me, I know myself that that's a rather dumb logic... And yes, you could say that Legolas and Celylith grow a little bit wicked, but then again, frightening others can be lots of fun, too. Oh, I don't feel sorry for the 'Fox' either. He's stupid and evil and stupid and did I mention stupid? He deserved what he got. *nods* He did.  
XsilicaX - Oh, come on, you LIKE the 'horrible pain' I've been putting your 'poor Estel' through. I know, I know, you would prefer Glorfindel, and I will see what I can do about that in the next story, okay? 'Major memory flashbacks and horrible nightmares in his future'? Uhm, let's just say that it's a possibility, okay? As in 'very likely'. And yes, I know that you don't want me to kill Celylith, and I promise I'll try not to. But there is this little voice in my head that urges me to, so... *g*  
Reginabean - Exactly! I in fact love my cliffies, but I'll admit freely that it is probably a little bit different if you already know what will happen in the next chapter... A day camp? That sounds in fact very stressful... Don't work too much, and remember, humans DO need sleep from time to time... *g* Thanks for the review!  
Nilbrethiliel - *heult* Natuerlich habe ich dich vermisst! Und wie! Ich habe vor lauter Trauer kein Auge mehr zutun koennen! Und ich bestehe drauf: Ich bin nicht boese - nur anders. Genau. *nickt* Das ist's. Ich bin noch am Leben, weil sie ganz genau wissen, dass sie lieber nicht hand an mich legen sollten - es sei denn, sie STEHEN auf torture session... *g*   
Mouse - Yeah, well, Legolas was really rather ... uhm, let's say upset, shall we? *g* I'm glad you like the scene with the two elves in the end, I was rather afraid it had been too ... I don't know either, but I wasn't sure about it. *shrugs* And no, unfortunately I didn't watch Bruce Almighty, but believe me, I wish I had! The Hulk was just bad. *shudders* Really bad.  
Elladan - *g* You check your mails every day to see if I have updated? Really? Well, you could just do it 4-5 days after the last post, then the odds are wuite good... If FF.net doesn't load it immediately, just put an 'a/' behind the link, so for example '...=chapter13a/'. That works most of the time. A useful little trick Coreinha told me some time ago, I am eternally in her debt for that! *g* Thanks a lot for all your revieww!  
Carrie - Well, _some_ of us HAVE to post fast, don't they? *pointed look at Carrie* And no, Celylith (whom I will KILL soon, Mhahahahaha!! Whoah! Calm down, J/k! *g*) will not suck my blood, because he isn't stupid. He knows I would kill him sooner than he could say 'You will be my dinner'. Oh, and yes, go on, slap Thranduil all you want! He is an idiot, but I am sure he will have trouble explaining THIS to Elrond. Serves him right. Moron. *g* And yes. *sighs* You were right, of course. 'The Hulk' was the most idiotic movie I have seen in a long, _long_ time. And that means something, it was even worse than "The Scorpion King". No, wait, I think that one was just as bad. *g*  
Zam - *wide-eyed* Uhm ... jeez ... I mean, who'd have thought ... are you alright? *backs away slowly* I never actually SAID that I would kill him, did I? I mean, he _could_ make it out alive, okay? Hold on to that thought, will ya? You're scaring me here ... more than usually, I mean... *g* Uhm, and I cannot kill Glónduil since he isn't even here - but perhaps he will be in the next story. And Seobryn is too ... young to die? Uhm, that was lame, I admmit that, but I can only kill people I like, and I don't like him that much. That doesn't make much sense, does it? But I think about not killing him, okay? I don't want a dead animal in my closet, after all...   
*giggles* I really don't think that it was a good idea to push Rivendell off that cliff, really! Elrond most certainly won't be happy... *g* *reads poem* That was ... uhm ... *notices dark glare that Zam shoots her* ... beautiful! Really! I mean, a piece of art! Wonderful!! And don't you think all that making Celylith part of the horde was a good idea? *shrugs* It's your horde, so... *g*  
Alexa - You like Celylith too, then? As I said, I'll think about not killing him, okay? LOL, well I love seeing them hurt, so I would never miss a chance to mention the injuries! *evil grin* Don't tell me, that makes me a weird, sick person... *g*  
Arwen-Evenstar - *blushes* Great you like it! And that's what I would have in Legolas place, let Misien drug him, I mean. Aragorn can be soooo stubborn at times... *g* Well, I hope this was soon enough to get you off the edge of your seat? Thanks one again for all your reviews!  
Gwyn - Aww, come now, that was NOT a cliffy, not really, anyway! And this one certainly isn't! Is it? And come on! Here is the next chapter, so: Admit it! You actually _like_ me, right? Admit it! And let me tell you one thing: If only one of the loonie... uhm, I mean readers of course, if only one of them gets through, I will stop writing altogether! I will! *g*  
Alex Mistress Squirrel - Well, your screenname is at least something you won't forget so soon! I'm glad you like the chapters, hope this one is okay as well? Thanks for reviewing!  
Seveawen - Yeah, well, I wouldn't know about Bruce Almighty, since I was stupid enough to watch "The Hulk". That was a mistake, and I admit it. *sheepish grin* *nervous smile* You are feeling well, aren't you? But okay, SURE you will marry Seobryn and have lots of little human kids. Suuuuuuure, hold on to that thought. Well, 'hysterical' is a good word to describe that feeling too, I guess - knowing you, a very fitting word... *evil grin*   
MidnightWolf - Well, you have to admit, you were scared too if a crazy elf pinned you to the wall while his friend threatened to eat you! I would be! LOL, I like the sound of that! Legolas: Tell me or my friend will eat you! Celylith: Eat _that_? Are you crazy? No way! Not before he has washed!! *giggles* That'd be very funny indeed... Oh, and Aragorn will get him back, in ch 16, that is. You'll have to wait a bit... *g*  
LeggyLover03 - *nods* Oh yes, you definitely are. Bloodthirsty, I mean. But hey, so are 99,9% of the people here, so it doesn't really matter, does it? *g*   
Imbefaniel - Well, you _definitely_ can have Legolas, since I most certainly don't want him. Go ahead, have fun! *g* I always like Gil-galad, I always have to think of that sad poem in FOTR "Gil-galad was an elven king, of him the harpers sadly sing..." *sniffs* So sad. And sure I know Blind Guardian, and since they definitely are NOT my favourite band, I still like the CD. 'Nightfall' isn't bad. *g*  
Cestari - *reads her suggestion* I like it! Really! Though I think that the Hulk bit was a bit too evil, even for the 'Fox'. Believe me, no-one deserves _that_! Glad you liked that last chapter, I hope you'll like this one as well! Thanks for your reviews!  
Alilacia - *grins as well* Nope, he definitely shouldn't have attacked the ranger. That's always a mistake, but the evil dudes are just too stupid to get that, you're right... *g* Eeep! That's horrible, the bit with your vein and all that! I told you, I'm afraid of needles, and now I will _never_ be able to give blood, thank you very much! *g* Oh, and believe me, Celylith WILL get hurt. Either that or he will die. *shrugs* Don't tell me, I'm evil. *evil grin* Yup, I definitely am.  
Halo - Oh, so you LIKE Celylith too? Who'd have thought? Ah well, you know, I never DID promise you not to kill him, that must have been a misunderstanding... But I'll think about it, okay? Sorry, but no guarantees... *evil grin*  
LOTRFaith - I hate burns too. They are horrible and painful and ugly and did I mention painful? *evil grin* Guess I did... But I love doing the things I hate to my poor ickle ranger, and I still have to have him wrench his knee... *evil cackle*   
ShadowWarrior - *g* I have to admit, an angry Legolas is a sight to behold, unless he's angry at you, that is... And well, I guess I really should start an official Celylith Fan club, huh? Well, you're right, of course - he IS adorable! *huggles heavily resisting elven warrior* Great you like uit so much! Thanks for the review!  
Critternut - Uhm, your friends say you have evil eyes? That's ... interesting... *g* Well, if you aren't back till the 11th you won't read that right now, but in two days! I can wait that long! *smiles*   
Lina - Uhm, I really hate to disappoint you, Lina, but it - was - not - his - fault! Really, I promise you... And as I said in a lot of replies, I don't know yet whether to kill Celylith or not, but believe me, if I do, I will move somewhere where you can't find me, like Antartica or China or something... *g* LOL at the cloak! I am sure Celylith appreciates it... 'Mama-Lina's gonna make it all better'? Well, yes, you could say so, it was probably because of _you_ that Lomar killed himself! *g* ROTFL!! 'CATCH ME BABY, I'M ALL YOURS!'??? Lina, you have a serious problem, you really do... *adopts wide-eyed stare of near panic* I am sorry ... for your bosom ... really Lina, I am... so glad you fed Celylith and saved Aragorn too ... Éomer! Get that nut case away from me! She's INSANE!!!!!   
Maranwe - Well, great you liked the "Count Celylith" bit so much, but please, don't die of laughter either! Then who would send me lovely reviews! *g* If you like long chapters, you're right here, because I seem to be unable to produve chapters that are shorter than 15 pages. I don't know why either, it's a curse. Oh, and we will see Aragorn's "revenge" for being drugged in chapter 16. Poor Legolas... *g*  
A Person - *g* Cool screenname! And what do you mean, I and my cliffhangers? That wasn't a cliffy, well, not really, actually! But this one most definitely isn't! *snorts* The elves and do anything stupid? Never.... *g* Thanks for the review!  
Grumpy - Well, I don't know really... There are actually quite a lot of people out there who want to take care of Aragorn... Cathy, Carrie, Trin, me - lots of people! *g* Besides, he has Celylith and Legolas looking after him, what more could a ranger want? Uhm, that did sound soooooo wrong... *g*  
Stacee Phelps - *nods* I updated. And see, I even did it again! And of course Aragorn is okay, as I said before: I am neither stupid nor suicidal, I would never kill him ... I think... *evil grin* Oh, and the 'bloody' revenge is coming in chapter 16, so you have to wait for a bit, I'm afraid... *huggles Stacee* Thanks for all your reviews! I love them, thanks!  
Amelie - *blushes* What poem? I have no idea what you're taliking about... No, but really, I am sorry, but I don't think I will put it in here. That is one of the things I will never learn, composing poems in English, I mean. Sorry, but I wouldn't be worth reading, really. Thanks for all your complimetns though, and tight now I am trying not to kill Celylith, which I really, _really_ want to do right now. *sighs* I'll try not to do it, but... *g*   
CrazyLOTRfan - *hangs head* Sorry, no, no cliffy, and there are a few chapters without, I'm afraid. No real life-or-death cliffies, anyway, sorry... *sad smile* Yes, you're right! Celylith is my personal bodyguard/vampire now, so don't flame me for my lack of cliffies! *hopeful sparkle in eyes* You mean the American could want a Nili Day? That would be fantastic!!  
Salara - Neid, meine Liebe? Als ob IHR es nicht schaffen wuerdet, unsere Lieblinge in Schwierigkeiten zu bringen! 'Forschungszentrum für die Regeneration menschlichen Gewebes'? *rot werd* Uhm, nun, dann weisst du auch wahrscheinlich, dass meine Behandlungsmethoden nicht ganz echt sind? Ich meine, ich weiss, dass man solceh Brandwunden eigentlich nicht verbindet und auch nicht mit Salbe beschmiert, aber - es passte in die Story. Kuenstlerishce Freiheit, genau... Und Recht hast du, ich quaele wirklich, was ich liebe, aber da ich auch fair bin, kommen Legolas und Co. auch nicht zu kurz. Oh, und WvdvW: Ich hasse ihn! ir mussten ein GANZES von seinen dummen Gedichten auswendig lernen!! Furchtbar!! Uhm, und um den 'Fox' wuerd' ich mir keine Gedanken machen, der kommt diese Geschichte nicht mehr vor - allerdings hast du mich gerade mit einem boesen Plot Bunny fuer Geschichte #4 versorgt... Mhahahah! *reibt sich die Haende*   
Firnsarnien - No, don't worry, for the next time there won't be any cliffies, I think. I don't know, perhaps again in chapter 17 or something, we'll see. And I agree, I wouldn't want to meet Celylith and Legolas either when they're angry... *g* Thanks for the review! I missed you!  
LOTRMatrixStarwarsfan - No, he would probably not drink man blood, I'll give you that, but there are vampires mentioned somewhere in Tolkien's stories/letters/whatever, so there _are/were_ vampires there. LOL, they're forming some sort of pattern? That's an interesting way to see it, but I think you're right... *g* I'm sorry about the survey, I really would have liked to help!   
TrinityTheSheDevil - Yup, someone out there hates us. I think it's Aragorn because we do all those horrible things to him... Well, I would like to tell you that you can kidnap Celylith, but I'm afraid that Zam has already done that. He lives in her closet now. Sorry. *g* And I did never say that he would be whipped, did I? I haven't planned that far yet, so perhaps, but probably not, sorry. I have other things in mind for him though... *g*   
Marbienl - FF.net hates us, I just know it does... *g* LOL, you your poster came off the wall? That would scare me too, I think... And Celylith wasn't trying to say that Estel was fat or anything, really! It just sounded wrong, okay, he didn't mean it, really! And I think that Estel is by now recovered from the skull fracture, it's been 2-3 months now! Well, let me tell you one thing: If I awoke after being tortured by stupid evil dude to find a spider rubbing itself against my face, I would drop dead! Really, I would! And as I said: Celylith might be fine. But then again, he might not... *evil grin* Oh, and I definitely love long reviews! You can keep sending them! Please??? *g*  
NaughtyNat - Well, 'The Hulk' most certainly did NOT rock. I hated it, in fact, and I don't know yet if I will watch 'Pirates of the Carribean'. Hmm, I probably will, since it has Johnny Depp. He is perfect... *sighs* Well, English is an easy language to learn, that's true... but I learnt it for 7 years at school, so I should be able to speak it a bit, shouldn't I? You're drinking Orangensaft? Well, that's ... good, I guess... *g* Glad you liked the chappie!  
TigerLily713 - Well, you certainly shouldn't, should you? I mean, if you have a death wish, sure, go ahead, but otherwise... *g* Thanks for all your reviews, again!!  
Alisha - Awww.... *hangs head* A short review is better than no review, you're right. And it's not THAT short, so I'll be happy. Yay! *grins happily* It would be 'interesting to see how he reacts to pain'? Alisha, really! Shame on you! You are blood-thirsty!! Poor Celylith, but don't worry: I will either kill him or do something equally horrible to him, so you should get your chance to see just that... *g* Thanks for the 'short' review, I always love your reviews! Really!  
ManuKu - Glaub mir, die meisten dieser Szenen entstehen wirklich, wenn ich schlechte Laune habe... *g* Man koennte wohl sagen, dass der 'Fox' genug Mut hatte, um ihnen Auskunft zu geben - vielleicht war er aber auch ganze einfach nicht lebensmuede. ICH wuerde mich ganz sicher nicht mit denen anlegen! *stellt sich Legolas und Celylith als Guter Cop - Boeser Cop vor* Ja, das koennte man wohl sagen - abgesehen davon ist's 'ne interessante Vorstellung... *g* *guckt schnell auf ihren gerahmten Leitsatz* Neeeeeeeinn, so was habe ich doch nicht... niemals... *g*  
  
**As I have mentioned before, I _love_ reviews! A huge Thank you to all my reviewers!! We lovess you, we doesss, precioussss... *g* **  
  



	14. Light In the Darkness

**Disclaimer: **For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.  
  
  
**A/N:  
  
Yeah, you're right, even the _characters_ have figured out that they will end up in serious trouble - if even THEY get it, it must be bad, huh? *evil grin* But don't worry, that's still a few chapters away...  
  
I would love (hm, okay, make that 'like', I'm not looking forward to it _that_ much)** **to see "Pirates of the Caribbean" (Oh, and thank you VERY MUCH for that mental image, Alilacia! It _really_ helped me!! *mock glares at her*), but unfortunately, it won't come out here for at least three more weeks. We're a month behind almost all the time - fortunately not with LOTR! I would have _died_ if I'd had to wait for another four weeks! *winces at mere thought*  
  
I don't** **know yet** **if the poor messenger-elf, Anardir, is making another appearance in this story, perhaps in the very end. I could put him in the next story though, he could take Celylith's place ... j/k!! Really! I haven't decided yet what to do with him, calm down, and whatever happens to him will happen in chapter 18, no sooner. So you have to wait, sorry. *g*  
  
**  
**Fine, here's the next bit now, and as promised Aragorn finally talks about his nightmares. *sighs* Poor, reckless human... In addition to that, the three take their leave from Owaeran and family, and some old friends make a reappearance in the end. *g*  
Oh, and usually I don't use song lyrics, but this whole chapter was written while listening to that particular song, and so I saw it fitting to put them in here. *shrugs* Won't happen so much more often, I think.  
  
  
Enjoy and review, please!**  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Chapter 14  
  
  
  
  
_Wake me up inside,_  
_ Wake me up inside,_  
_ Call my name and save me from the dark,_  
_ Bid my blood to run,_  
_ Before I come undone,_  
_ Save me from the nothing I've become…_  
  
_ ("Bring Me To Life", Evanescence)_  
  
  
__   
  
The next morning came far too soon, and the whole house seemed to hum with activity while everybody ran around preparing the departure of the Master's guests. Bags with enough food and water to feed a company of six were provided, since Misien insisted that the poor "boys" needed the food urgently.   
  
The horses were made ready, and the stable hands learned the hard way that elven horses did not enjoy being cooped up for a week. Especially the "demon", as the men had quickly dubbed Rashwe – much to Aragorn's amusement – was causing trouble, rolling his eyes and lashing out at everyone who tried to come near him until the stable hands gave up and sent for Legolas in the hope that the horse would calm down once its master was near.  
  
Five minutes after Legolas had left for the stables, mumbling under his breath about the incompetence of humans when it came to horses – not a very fair claim since the men didn't even have the means to calm the horse for they didn't speak Elvish – Aragorn was ready to leave.  
  
Granted, it had taken him about five minutes longer than usual to get ready, but he blamed that on his muscles that were already stiff from spending so much time in a bed, an activity, or rather non-activity that always resulted in the stiffness of his whole body. There was the fact that putting on his shirt and tunic had proven to be rather painful, let alone fastening his cloak at his neck, but that was a small matter, of course.  
  
Now however, he was ready and more than eager to escape his room. The young ranger could hardly wait to leave the house and get out of this town, as fascinating as Lake-town might be, he had lost quite a lot of his initial enthusiasm for the settlement.  
  
He girded his weaponbelt, took up the remaining bags and slowly made his way downstairs, deciding that he really felt a lot better. His head seemed to have calmed down some, at least up to the point where he could move it around without it threatening to explode. The burns were still painful of course, but they were healing and not nearly as bad as they had been, and the cracked rib was nothing he hadn't experienced before.  
  
All in all, he was fine. He grimaced inwardly. His father would have given him the _look_ at this point, dragged him back to his bedroom and left the twins behind to guard him while he went making one of his infamous teas, probably mumbling under his breath about the irresponsibility of youth and the fact that his son's definition of the word 'fine' needed to be addressed at one point or another.  
  
'Fortunately,' he thought, walking down the corridors and placing his bags next to the others, '_Ada_ is not here.'  
  
Legolas could be just as bad though, especially if he blamed himself, and the elven prince did that every time he was injured, no matter how obvious it was that he was not at fault. And it had not been his elven friend's fault, he shook his head slightly, it had been his own. He had acted without thinking, once again.   
  
Elladan was right, one of these days he would get himself killed that way. His oldest brother always claimed that he was too impatient, too reckless and too careless with his life.  
And perhaps he was even right in that assessment, for sometimes the young ranger took risks a normal human never would have, but he didn't even think twice about them since he had grown up with the elves who were naturally stronger, more graceful, faster and more agile than men.  
  
'And who are also very hard to kill,' a voice inside his head stated. 'Unlike you.'  
  
The young man growled in annoyance. That was another thing he had to talk about with his father; this little voice in his head was getting more and more persistent. But then again, if he told his father, Elrond would probably lock him in his room and get Gandalf, Galadriel, Celeborn and every other wise person he could think of to make sure that he was not falling under the influence of some kind of evil.   
  
"…you alright?"   
  
A soft elven voice interrupted this particular train of thought, and Aragorn looked up to look into the face of Celylith who had stopped where he had been taking up some bags to load them onto the horses, studying him in concern.  
  
"Yes," he quickly nodded. He certainly wouldn't tell the silver haired elf what he had been thinking about. "Yes, I am fine."  
  
Celylith shot him an disbelieving look but shrugged after a second.  
"Well, if you're fine you can help me load the horses."  
  
Aragorn grinned and pointed accusingly at the elf, mock alarm on his face.  
"Who are you and why are you looking like my friend? You can't be the same elf who wanted to drug me yesterday rather than let me take a walk!"  
  
"Strider, I have no appeciation whatsoever for your odd sense of humour right now," the elf growled, pushing the human gently into the direction of the bags. "Now come and help me or we won't leave today at all."  
  
"And we don't want that," the ranger nodded, taking up a few leather bags and stepping outside where the horses were waiting. While he was loading the animals with their baggage, he squinted slightly to help his eyes adjust to the harsh morning sun. The day was beautiful with blue sky and not a single cloud in sight, something that greatly pleased the ranger. No clouds meant no snow, and they already had more than enough of that.  
  
When they had just loaded the last of the bags onto the horses, leaving only Legolas' baggage sitting next to the door, the elven prince appeared, trailed by his horse that looked around it innocently. The stable hands were standing at the doors of the stables that were located to the left of Owaeran's house, following the animal's movements with a mixture of relief and hate on their faces.  
  
Legolas stopped his horse and began to load his bags onto the animal's back, and Aragorn stepped closer to the both of them, looking at the horse warily.  
  
"Rashwe is enjoying this," he stated after a minute, looking the white horse in the eye. "I swear this animal thrives on chaos and fear."  
  
He could have sworn he had seen a dangerous sparkle in the horse's eyes, but before he could look closer, Legolas' voice interrupted his thoughts.  
  
"Estel! He does no such thing! Rashwe is an elven horse!"  
  
"And your point is?" the young ranger questioned, carefully stepping away form the horse. "This elven horse tried to kill my brothers."  
  
Legolas made a dismissive movement with his hand, stuffing the last of the provisions into his saddlebags.  
"They exaggerate."  
  
Aragorn gave Rashwe a long look.  
"Somehow I doubt it."  
  
Celylith laughed and motioned a servant to step closer and take the reins of the three horses while they made their way inside to say good-bye to Owaeran and his family.  
"I'm afraid Strider's right, my lord. That horse is indeed rather … unusual."  
  
Legolas glared darkly at his friend.  
"Your pets are so much more common, aren't they, my friend?"  
  
"At least my pets don't want to eat me or my frie…" the other elf began, and when he saw the raised eyebrows of his companions, he quickly added, "Never mind."  
  
A second later they reached the large dining room that was brightly lit by the sunlight this time of day, the sunbeams dancing over the dark wooden boards and painting intricate patterns on the wood.  
  
The three of them entered the room to find Owaeran, his wife, daughter and apprentice already present, all sitting at the table where the last remnants of the breakfast were just being cleared away by two servant girls. The men rose from their seats, looking at the three young beings expectantly.  
  
"We are ready to leave, Master Owaeran," Legolas said, nodding his head politely to the two women who had remained seated. "In the name of the king I thank you all for your hospitality. Should you or any of your kin ever need the help of the elves of Mirkwood, do not hesitate to ask and you shall have it. We are in your debt."  
  
Owaeran gave a slight bow, and Misien stood up, walking around the table.  
  
"Thank you, Prince Legolas," she said, noting the surprised expression on the males' faces with a fine smile. "Yes, I know that you are the prince, and I have for some time now. I may not travel to Mirkwood all the time, but I am not stupid." She smiled at the two elves and the ranger, a stern expression on her face. "Do be careful, all of you. Having the two of you brought here wounded was something I had never wished to see. And you, my dear," she turned to Aragorn who looked back at her, eyes wide, "You make sure that the two of them eat enough. They are far too thin!"  
  
The young man stared at her for a second, noticing that Seveawen who sat behind her mother at the table was burying her face in her hands in embarrassment.  
  
"Uhm, yes, my lady," he said, ignoring the frozen faces of his elven companions. "You are right. I will make sure that they do."  
  
The three gave another bow to the two ladies and made their way out of the room, followed by Seobryn and Owaeran who were escorting them to the front door. While Celylith and Aragorn were saying good-bye to the trader, Legolas pulled Seobryn a little to the side.  
  
"Here," he said, smiling at the slightly startled face of the boy and handing him a small, folded piece of paper, "This is another poem your lady would like, I think. Just remember what I told you about not staring at her … well, you know, just don't stare at her too openly, most maidens find that uncomfortable."   
  
Seobryn began to stammer his thanks, but Legolas brushed it aside with a wave of his hand.  
"No thanks is needed, Master Human. I am in your debt, more deeply than I could ever repay you. You saved Estel's life a few months back, and that is something I will never forget. But," he looked at the boy seriously, "Do not tell him about this. Ever. Understood?"  
  
The boy nodded, brushing back a strand of his light brown hair.  
"Understood, your Highness. Thank you for all your help."  
  
"Oh," Legolas muttered wryly as they were walking up to the others, "It was my pleasure."  
  
The three of them took the reins of their horses, ready to leave behind the house they had spent the past week in, when Owaeran stepped in front of them, looking at them with almost beseeching eyes.   
  
"Please," he began, looking at them in turn, "I know I cannot change your minds now, and I thank you from the bottom of my very heart that you are doing this to help my brother and his friends, but please, I beg you, be cautious! I do not want to see anyone else hurt because of my brother's actions, and I know he wouldn't want that either."  
  
Aragorn nodded at the older man, smiling slightly.  
"We will be, Master Owaeran. With Elbereth's help we will return shortly, with your brother and his friends. Thank you for your hospitality."   
  
The three nodded their heads at the trader and Seobryn who stood next to his employer, staring at them with disapproving eyes. Aragorn winked at the younger man, eyes twinkling.   
"Take care, Seobryn. Do not get yourself into trouble."  
  
"I, Estel?" the boy lifted an amused eyebrow as he watched his friend and the elves slowly walk down the rather crowded catwalk, each of them leading his horse. "That does sound rather strange, coming from you!"  
  
The ranger acted as if he hadn't heard that last remark and merely gave a last wave before they disappeared round a corner and passed out of sight.  
  
To get out of Lake-town proved to be rather difficult, for it was a market day and there were at least twice as many people crowding the streets and narrow catwalks. After more than an hour they had finally managed to get off the wooden islands, and, passing the guards that were posted at the head of the large wooden bridge that led to the western shore of the Long Lake, they set foot on solid ground and mounted their horses, directing them northwards, into the direction of Erebor, the Lonely Mountain in whose shadow lay the valley of Dale.  
  
"Well," Celylith said as they were slowly riding northwards towards the ferry that would take them across the already half-frozen Forest River, "I have to admit that this visit wasn't … quite as I had imagined it."  
  
"Really?" Legolas asked ironically, looking at his friend in mock surprise. "You expected something different?"  
  
"No," the silver haired elf admitted, smiling ruefully at his prince and the ranger, "No, not really. But one can hope."  
  
"Yes," Aragorn agreed and returned the smile as he carefully rotated his left shoulder, ckecking the movement hindered by the bandages under his clothes, "You are right, _mellonamin_. One can always hope."  
  
Softly, as if to himself, he added,  
  
"It just doesn't help any, that's all."  
  
The two elves traded a concerned glance, and Legolas gave the Long Lake a last look, this time not at all captivated by the beauty of the shimmering waters. If anything, the lake looked evil and menacing in his eyes, the place of too many dark things that had happened in these past seven days.  
  
Turning back to his solemn companions, he began to curse his decision to come to Esgaroth, and slowly he was asking himself if Celylith was right and they were getting into more trouble than they could handle.  
  
  
  
  
"No," Aragorn muttered on the evening of the same day, eyeing a little biscuit-like thing he held in his hand suspiciously, as if expecting it to grow wings and fly away. "No, you must be wrong, Legolas."  
  
"He isn't," Celylith protested, nibbling at his own biscuit with an expression of disgust on his face. "It is really food."  
  
"That is a matter of opinion," the young ranger said dryly, softly poking his biscuit.  
  
Legolas laughed loudly, throwing another log into the fire.  
"Stop complaining, you two. That is cram, it is something like the Lake-men's lembas."  
  
"It doesn't taste like lembas though," the other elf complained. "In fact, it tastes…"  
  
"…like sawdust baked in an oven for a few years," Aragorn finished Celylith's sentence, looking at his piece of cram quizzically. "Does one of you have a hammer? I don't think my human teeth will be able to cope with that … cram."  
  
The elven prince grinned, remembering his own reaction when he had first seen a piece of cram. It was the Lake-men's waybread, the kind of food they took on long journeys. It had many beneficial characteristics, for example was supposed to keep good indefinitely and to be incredibly sustaining, but being an enjoyable food was not one of them, nor had it ever been intended to, Legolas suspected.  
  
"Here," he tossed both of them a packet with dried fruit and meat, "If you two are too picky to eat what our hosts have so graciously given us, then have some of these."  
  
The young ranger and the silver haired elf traded a dark look before they both took their cram and stuffed it into their mouths in one piece. After chewing for about ten minutes, Aragorn finally managed to swallow the last bit of the biscuit and quickly grabbed a waterskin, taking a hasty gulp of the cool liquid.  
  
"Ilúvatar!" he gasped, grimacing slightly. "If I didn't know better, I'd think that the dear Master Owaeran and his wife are trying to kill us!"  
  
"Poison," Celylith nodded grimly, snatching Aragorn's waterskin and taking a sip himself. "I don't know what they're hoping to accomplish, but this counts as poisoning in my opinion."  
  
Legolas laughed again, shaking his head in amusement. These two were sometimes impossible.  
  
"You will get used to it," he said nonchalantly, his hands playing with the string of his bow.  
  
"Oh, of course I will," the young ranger muttered under his breath, loud enough for his elven friends to understand his words. "In a lifetime or two."  
  
"Come now, Estel," Legolas laughed, an evil gleam in his eyes. "It is…"  
  
"If you don't want to lose a limb or two, then don't say 'It is good for you'," the dark haired man advised, glaring darkly at the elven prince.   
  
"But it is," Legolas grinned, quickly moving backwards when the human threw the rest of his cram into his direction. "Don't waste our food like that, ranger, do you want us to starve?"  
  
"Hah!" Aragorn snorted, suppressing a yawn. "We will be there in two days, it would be no small feat indeed to starve in that period of time!"  
  
"If I have learned one thing, it is that everything is possible when one is travelling with the two of you," Celylith interjected darkly. "Absolutely everything."   
  
He ignored the scathing looks his two companions shot him and studied the obviously tired form of the young ranger closely.   
"You are tired, Strider," he said added softly. "You should go to sleep, the tent is already pitched."  
  
Legolas took a look at the face of his human friend and nodded, silencing him with a stern look.  
"He is right, Aragorn. Go to sleep, we will keep watch tonight."  
  
"I am no child!" the dark haired ranger protested as he was pushed into the direction of the small tent they had pitched in the shadow of some tall trees at the edge of the small glade they had chosen for their campsite. "I am more than capable of taking my part of the watches!"  
  
"Of course you are," Legolas soothed his friend. "But you are injured, in pain and very tired, and don't try to deny it. You need your sleep tonight, let us worry about the watches."  
  
Aragorn gave both of them a dark glare before he disappeared into his tent, forcefully slapping the canvas to the side and mumbling under his breath about over-protective, irritating elves.  
  
Grinning slightly at each other, the two elves settled down next to the fire, listening to the sounds of the night all around them. Sometime around midnight they decided to count all the times they had returned to the palace of Legolas' father injured in one way or another, but after half an hour they gave up, deciding that that activity would take them the rest of the night.  
  
"But you surely do remember the one time we came back after that encounter with the mountain trolls! Eru, rarely have I seen your father that angry!" Celylith chortled, crumbling another piece of cram between his fingers. A while ago he had decided that he was doing all of them a favour if he destroyed this poor excuse for a waybread.  
  
"Or I yours, if I remember correctly," Legolas countered, smiling in recollection of that rather eventful day. "That was the year he sent you to your mother's family in Lothlórien to prevent you from getting yourself into trouble, wasn't it?" When his silver haired friend nodded, he added with a grin, "Not that it really helped, but…"  
  
"That wasn't my fault!" the other elf protested, looking at his friend with innocent eyes. "Rúmil and his friends insisted that it was a good idea!"  
  
"Of course," the fair haired elf grinned. "These things are never your fault, forgive me…"  
  
A small, muttering sound could be heard behind them, and the two elves whirled around, looking at the small tent and taking in their surroundings with keen eyes. The sound could be heard again, and Legolas was able to make out words, first in Sindarin, but then the speaker seemed to settle for Quenya.  
  
_"Lá, lá, atar, útúla sinome!"  
_  
Legolas looked at Celylith, silver-blue eyes hard and determined.  
"It is enough," he said, narrowing his eyes in concern. "His stubbornness has gone far enough now!"  
  
The other elf only nodded, took up his bow and looked at his companion.  
"I will go. Call if you need me, I will hear you."  
  
With a thin smile at the elven prince Celylith turned and disappeared between the trees, giving the two friends the privacy they needed. Legolas began to quickly walk up to the small tent, wincing when he heard the pained voice of his human friend call out again for his father in the ancient tongue of the High Elves. At any other time he would have accredited the man for speaking that beautiful language flawlessly and without a detectable accent, but such thoughts were quickly driven from his mind when he heard the agonised, pleading note in his friend's voice.   
  
He pulled the front flap of the tent aside and, ducking his head, stepped into the dark space, his elven eyes effortlessly piercing the blackness and fixing on the distressed form of his sleeping friend that was throwing his head from side to side, silver tears gleaming on his cheeks in the sparse moonlight.  
  
Legolas knelt down next the young man and reached out to calm him, but at his touch Aragorn jerked away harshly, crying out in his sleep and almost hitting the elf in the face.  
  
_"Nánye vanwa morniësse, torninyat … Lá!"  
_  
The elven prince shook his head and tried gently to catch the young man's flailing arms, doing his best to restrain the human and to free him of his nightmares at the same time.  
  
"Aragorn!" he called loudly, carefully grasping his left wrist, pressing it down and trying to harm the still healing left side of Aragorn's body as little as possible. "Aragorn! Wake up! Come back to me, your brothers are safe! Estel!"  
  
The young ranger didn't seem to hear him for he kept struggling against the hands that held him down, trying to escape the dark shadows that haunted his dream, still speaking in the language that the Noldor had used when they returned from Valinor in pursuit of Melkor who had stolen the Silmarils and brought them to Middle-Earth.  
  
_"Lá, atar … úhiruvan tiënya at-elyënna! Útúla, atar…"  
_  
Legolas tightened his grip on his friend, shaking him slightly now.  
"Estel! Wake! This is but a dream, the darkness cannot harm you now! You found your way back! Now find your way back here as well! Wake up, please, Aragorn!"  
  
Suddenly, the young human's eyes shot open, and when they took in the figure crouching next to him, he renewed his struggles to escape, obviously not recognising his friend. The elven prince gently pressed the man back down, talking to him quietly in Elvish until the silver eyes showed some recognition.  
  
"L-Legolas?" he asked shakily, blinking up at the elf in the near complete darkness of the tent. "What…"  
  
"You had a nightmare," Legolas said simply, slowly letting go of the young ranger's wrists. "A bad one. You called for your father and your brothers, in Quenya."  
  
"Quenya?" Aragorn muttered as he sat up and pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs. In that position, with the tousled hair and drying tear tracks on his cheeks he looked about ten years old, Legolas decided inwardly.  
  
"Oh yes, I thought about one of _ada's _favourite poems right before I went to sleep, something rather long and incredibly boring about the two trees and their light – or something like that," the ranger explained quietly, forcefully suppressing the shudders that raced through his body and trying to ignore the dull ache of the left side of his chest. "It's in Quenya, I was probably still thinking in that language when I was dreaming." He looked at the elven prince, taking a deep breath. "Thank you for waking me."  
  
Legolas slowly sat back, giving the ranger some space. The pleading expression in his human friend's eyes begged him not to ask, not to force him to tell him what he had seen in his dreams, but the elf had had enough. Aragorn needed to talk about these nightmares which seemed only to have worsened since the last time.  
  
'And can you blame him?' a voice inside his head asked.  
  
"Aragorn," Legolas began softly, studying the young man's face intently who was staring into nothing with vacant eyes. "You must tell someone about this. Please, let me help you."  
  
The dark haired human raised his head and looked at the elf.  
"Please, Legolas … don't ask me to…"  
  
"Yes, I do!" the elven prince countered, eyes blazing in the darkness. "I see how much these dreams torment you, I see how you become thinner and paler every day because you do not sleep enough! I see that you are hurting and you expect me to do nothing?"  
  
"Legolas…" Aragorn looked at his elven friend beseechingly. "I cannot tell you."  
  
"Why?" the elven prince asked, his patience finally spent. He narrowed his eyes, his tone of voice sharper than he actually wanted it to be. "Why not? Tell me! Why didn't you want your father to come and help you? What is it that torments you so in your sleep?"  
  
The human slowly closed his eyes and hung his head, taking a deep, shuddering breath. For a few minutes it was silent, and when Legolas was just about to apologise for his harsh words, Aragorn raised his head again, staring at the face of his friend that was shrouded in darkness.  
  
"Because he dies," he whispered softly, a desperate, heart-wrenching sound. "I don't want Elrond to come because he dies, night after night; every night." He fell silent and averted his eyes. "As do you and sometimes my brothers."  
  
Legolas swallowed, feeling as if someone had just knocked him over the head with a large, metal-plated club. And right now, he even thought he'd deserve it.  
  
The young ranger looked at him with tears in his grey eyes.  
  
"You want to know what it is I see? I see you die, over and over again, and one death is worse than the last." Two tears fell from his eyes and slowly began to make their way down his cheeks. Aragorn stared at the dark canvas in front of him, eyes wide and unseeing. "They all start the same way. I am back in that cave in Eskadol where you found me, back in the darkness and it is closing in on me, growing, intensifying, coming closer. It is suffocating me, draping itself over me like a dark blanket. I am drowning in that blackness and then, when I am sure that it will swallow me whole, everything shifts and I am no longer alone."  
  
He clenched his jaw slightly before he continued.  
  
"Donyc is there, and sometimes Cornallar, and now that man from the warehouse, Lomar. They are laughing at me and taunting me and my weakness, and then…" Legolas needn't be told that at this point Aragorn's memories emerged, memories of what those men and the elf had done to him a few months ago.  
  
The young ranger bowed his head and refused to meet his friend's gaze.  
"But that's not what makes me lose control. After some time, they stop and my father will suddenly be there, or you, or the twins. They start taunting me again, telling me that I am useless and not strong enough to help you, and they're right! I watch you die, every night I close my eyes I see these pictures! They torture you to death and there is nothing I can do to stop it, nothing!"  
  
Aragorn looked up again, self-accusation shining in his eyes now.  
"I am helpless! Helpless as I was when Donyc took you captive, helpless as I was when Cornallar lured _ada_ right into his trap, helpless as I was in that warehouse! I watch you and Elrond die again and again, and I know that it is because I am too weak to help you!"  
  
"It is only a dream, Estel," Legolas tried to soothe the man, reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder. "It is not real, it never happened. You are not weak…"  
  
"Oh, am I not?" Aragorn's head snapped around and he swatted at Legolas' hand. "Then why couldn't I stop them, in reality and in the dreams? I was powerless to do anything when Donyc was beating you back in that cave, just as I was powerless to defend myself against Addramyr in the end! Had Elladan and Elrohir not come, I would be dead now! If that is not weak, then what is it?"  
  
Legolas closed his eyes and shook his head, berating himself for not having noticed before that this was what was bothering his friend. But he could understand the young ranger perfectly well, he just needed to imagine he would see his father and Aragorn die every night…  
  
"It is called being trapped," he said softly, ignoring the human's attempts to evade him and grasping his chin, gently turning his head around until their eyes met. "You were trapped, Aragorn, and by no fault of yours. Do you think your brothers and me weak because we didn't come to your aid any sooner?"  
  
Aragorn quickly shook his head.  
"No, of course not, you couldn't…"  
  
"Exactly," the elven prince smiled. "We couldn't, because we were trapped as well. We tried everything in our power to reach you. We tried, _mellonamin_, and that is the point. I know you fought them every step of the way, because you are too stubborn and thick-headed to do anything else. You _tried_, Aragorn, and that was all you could do. The odds were not in your favour, and _hadn't_ you acted as you did, you would be dead now. You managed to keep Addramyr at bay long enough for your brothers to reach you. You aren't weak, and we are all safe."  
  
Silver-blue eyes bore into grey ones, and Legolas added, emphasising every word,  
  
"Your father is alive, and so are I and your brothers. You are strong, I know you are, my friend. You could never lose your way, because you carry your family always in your heart. They are always with you, Aragorn." He smiled at the human in front of him. "Do not let your enemies triumph in the end by letting yourself be consumed by this darkness. They are dead, and we are still alive, and that is all that matters."  
  
Aragorn looked at him, looking for any signs that the elf was just saying this out of a sense of pity, and when he found one, he tentatively returned the smile. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Legolas was well over two thousand years old and – as he had insisted so many times – far wiser than he was.  
  
"Thank you," he simply said, looking the other in the eye. "Thank you, Legolas."  
  
The fair haired elf smiled broadly at the young human, noting with satisfaction that the turmoil in his friend's silver eyes began to die down.  
  
"There is no need to thank me, Estel. That's what friends are for, isn't it?" He gently pressed the man back down, making a mental note to have a look at the burns in the morning. All this jolting just couldn't be good for the healing injuries. "Go back to sleep, reckless human. Do not let the darkness claim you again, and if it does, I will be here to help you fight it."  
  
Aragorn allowed his friend to press him down on the sleeping mat, eyes closing on their own account as the mental and physical exhaustion once again began to catch up with him.  
"You are there as well, you know," he mumbled, already on the brink of sleep.  
  
"Where, Estel?" Legolas asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Always with me," Aragorn answered sleepily. "You are the voice yelling 'Look out, idiot!'."  
  
The blonde elf grinned.  
"Well, someone has to, don't you think? You are far too careless as it is; we will have to have a talk about that tomorrow."  
  
The ranger didn't answer, and Legolas saw with satisfaction that he was asleep once again, looking more relaxed than he had seen him in weeks.  
  
The elven prince smiled and moved over to the tent's entrance, pulling the front flap to the side to let the sparse moonlight into the dark interior of tent. Sighing softly, he sat down at the entrance, musing if he should let Celylith know that he could return or not. After a moment, he decided against it, having come to the decision that he needed some time on his own.  
  
If he had known what it was that Aragorn was dreaming about, he wouldn't have pressed him as he had, but then again, this had been the only way to make the man tell him about the nightmares… Donyc's face appeared suddenly in his mind's eye, and Legolas balled his hands into fists when he remembered what that man had done to his friend.  
  
'He is dead now,' he thought, taking a deep breath, 'He is dead, I watched him die.'  
  
That knowledge did little to comfort him since he saw how his human friend was still suffering from the time he had spent as that accursed man's captive, and once again Legolas felt the powerful need to kill Donyc, again, and this time more slowly.  
  
He shook his head slightly, deciding that this was a most childish wish. Besides, it was unbecoming an elven warrior, but Legolas couldn't help it. That human and Cornallar had deserved death, as had that Lomar that had killed himself a few days ago.  
  
'But there are still the other men that are responsible for that Lomar's actions,' he decided with a grim smile, leaning back against a tent pole. 'And they will pay for their companion's deeds, Elbereth, I will make sure of that!'  
  
When Celylith returned an hour later, he was still pondering that thought, a humourless expression on his face that did not bode well for the men's future.  
  
  
  
  
Adruran was a patient man, a trait that had served him well in the past and would probably serve him well in the future. However, to everything there were limits, and he was slowly but surely reaching his, even though he tried to hide that feeling and did his best not to let his men see what he was thinking.  
  
But this was almost as bad as the time in Lake-town, he decided grumpily, slowly moving a whetstone across the blade of his sword. They had arrived here in Dale a little more than a week ago, and he had ordered his men to keep hidden near a small hill near the settlement called Ravenhill.   
  
There had been an old watch-post once, but it was abandoned now and only slowly being rebuilt; the Men of Dale obviously concentrated rather on the city itself and the modernisation of the road that led to the Lonely Mountain where the Dwarf King Dáin Ironfoot resided, who had taken the title of King under the Mountain after Thorin Oakenshield's death in the Battle of Five Armies twelve years ago.  
  
The township of Dale itself was swiftly growing, for now that a new King had returned to the place and the dragon was no longer a threat, it reassumed its old position as a trading post with the dwarves of Erebor.  
  
But it wasn't yet big enough that a group of twenty strange men would not attract attention, and the very last thing Adruran needed right now was to be brought before King Bard and be forced to explain himself.  
  
The man set aside his sword before he could file the blade to the width of a hair, something that would happen rather quickly if he didn't pay attention. No, it had been a lot better to stay in the shadows and observe quietly, for he really didn't think that the King of Dale would thank them for what they were about to do.  
  
Two days ago he and two of his lieutenants, Tiddryr and Bleon, who had accompanied him to the town, had finally been able to track down one of the men they had been looking for who had apparently come to Dale to replenish the group's provisions. After a short discussion they had decided not to approach the man – for which the lad should be more than thankful in Adruran's opinion – but to watch him closely, to find out where his companions were and how far they had got with their little treasure hunt.  
  
Adruran had followed the man himself, and had quickly come to the decision that these men deserved no better than what would eventually be happening to them. He had never seen anyone as conspicuous as that human who had been behaving so forced normally that all that was missing was a sign on his back saying "Attention! I have something to hide!!"  
  
Now they knew where the camp of the Lake-men was located, and three of his men were hidden close by and were watching every single one of their movements. If anything happened at all, Adruran would be the first to know. All in all, the situation was perfectly under control, and the only thing that grated on his nerves was the fact that he had to wait, once again.  
  
He wasn't even overly concerned with the guards that were with the Lake-men, apparently not to their immoderate joy either. They probably belonged to the same group that had been looking for the man they had … interrogated in Lake-town, and if that was so, they were no threat to his men.  
  
No, his problem was the waiting. As mentioned before, Adruran was a patient man, but the last month had been too much even for him. To him it seemed that he had been doing nothing else than staying in the shadows and waiting for something to happen, and that was something that he couldn't cope very well with.  
  
On the other hand, he didn't intend to search for that treasure himself, if such a thing even existed, something which he doubted somewhat. But his liege had been so sure that it did, and his lord usually gathered all the information he could before sending anyone on a mission. In this case it had been less information than usual, but Adruran had known better than to mention that during the short briefing he had received. He was not only a patient man, he wasn't stupid or suicidal either, and questioning his liege in front of others – as well as alone – was both to a high degree.  
  
No, he thought, taking up the whetstone once more, his hands beginning to twitch with inactivity again, he would let them look for that treasure all they wanted to.   
He would only make sure that the Men of Dale didn't notice anything, and when the Lake-men had found what they were looking for, he would set the second phase of his lord's plan in motion. He liked that part a lot better too; it was far more sophisticated and subtler than relieving a group of would-be-adventurers of a treasure.  
  
But he would only be able to do that if these incompetents finally _found_ something, he thought grumpily. Eru, according to several people the leader of the Lake-men, a certain Gwemyr, knew where that accursed treasure was, or that was at last what he had been claiming!   
  
While Adruran was still cursing the incompetence of the Lake-men and seriously considering if he shouldn't just go and offer them his men's help, the front flap of his tent was thrown to the side and Geran stepped in, brown eyes twinkling with amusement when he saw his captain sharpen his sword yet again. The older man had been doing little else for more than a day now.  
  
"Sir!" he said, eyes fixed at a spot behind above his superior's right shoulder.  
  
The other looked up unwillingly, brushing back a strand of brown hair.  
"What, Geran? And don't ask me if you may hunt a dwarf again, my answer stands!"  
  
The younger man actually blushed a little. He had indeed asked his captain for permission. He was a hunter at heart, and had hunted everything possible in this part of the world, from deer, bears and orcs to men. In his opinion there was nothing more exciting and more rewarding than hunting men, for it posed only a real challenge for a hunter when the prey could fight back. The fact that there were dwarves here was a great temptation for him, since they were said to be brave, cunning and very hard to kill despite their relative shortness.  
  
Ah well, he thought, he would get his chance. One of these days he would be able to able to add a dwarven axe to his trophy collection. Perhaps not now, but he would, one day…  
  
"No, sir," he said, bowing his head and averting his eyes. "Hanar has just arrived. He reached Dale yesterday evening and came here as soon as he was able. His horse apparently began to founder a few days ago, so that the journey took him almost twice as long."  
  
"Hanar?" Adruran asked, a cold knot forming in the pit of his stomach. "He came alone?"  
  
"Yes, sir," Geran stated. "He said Lomar stayed behind. He didn't say why."  
  
Adruran resisted the urge to fling the whetstone against the canvas and returned his blade to its sheath. Wonderful, just when everything was going according to plan for a change. He had unambiguously stated that the two of them should stay in Lake-town, and if Hanar was here now, that could mean only one thing: Trouble.  
  
"Send him in," the brown haired man growled and glared darkly at the young man. "He'd better have a good explanation for this, or I will make sure he regrets having ever been born!"  
  
The younger man nodded and stepped out of the tent, only to reappear a second later with another man that looked rather exhausted. He inclined his head to his captain.  
"Sir."  
  
"There'd better be a good reason for this, Hanar," Adruran said in a low, menacing voice. "I thought my orders had been clear."  
  
"Yes, sir, they were," the man nodded, meeting the other man's eyes evenly. "But believe me, you'll want to hear this. There is trouble brewing, sir."  
  
"I thought as much," his superior said testily, a dangerous glint appearing in his eyes. Patience, he reminded himself, he needed patience…  
  
The other man apparently recognised his captain's tone of voice, for he quickly swallowed and continued.  
"A week ago a group came to Esgaroth, and they started asking questions about the good Master Gwemyr and his friends. One of them was a ranger, and Lomar and I decided to have a little chat with him."  
  
"You did _what_?" Adruran asked in a dangerously low voice. Valar, they couldn't have been that stupid, could they? "A ranger? Are you insane?"  
  
"He was still young," the other man tried to justify their actions. "We thought that he would talk the soonest. Lomar stayed behind to finish the interrogation, because it took longer than we had expected. As you once said, sir, them rangers are tough."  
  
"Talk the soonest?" Adruran repeated unbelievingly. "There is only one kind I can think of that is as stubborn as rangers, and that is…" He fell silent and gulped, the knot in his stomach turning into ice all of the sudden. "Elves."  
  
Hanar grinned, relieved that his captain was suitably impressed.  
"Yes, sir. There were two with him, and who knows how many were waiting in the woods."  
  
Adruran closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Damn it, damn it, damn it … why elves? This was simply not fair! If there was a guarantee for disaster, it was elves. Everything connected to that accursed race was more trouble than it was worth, far more trouble…  
  
He opened his eyes again, listening to the chirping of the crickets outside of the tent.  
"Where is Lomar then? If your horse was foundering, why hasn't he caught up with you? Even with a ranger it shouldn't take much longer than two days, especially not when he was still young. Especially not with Lomar."  
  
He gave Geran a dark look which the youth didn't even seem to notice. Lomar was one of the younger man's friends and shared his disputable hobbies.  
  
Hanar shrugged helplessly.  
"I don't know, sir. Perhaps the elves got him. I don't know."  
  
Adruran pointed at a crude stool in front of his camp bed.  
"Sit and tell me everything in the right order. Slowly."  
  
The other man obeyed and began to tell his captain all he knew, shooting the younger man that still stood behind him a curious look after a while.   
  
Geran however wasn't paying the words of his companions any attention whatsoever, his whole thinking concentrated on one word: Elves. At least two of the fair folk, he thought almost dreamily, and they were in all likelihood coming here. Elves – that was a prey he knew he wouldn't be able to resist. The mere thought of him being able to hunt an elf was causing small shivers of anticipation to run down his spine. Who needed dwarves when there were elves coming right here?  
  
Geran leaned back against a tent pole, a thin smile playing about his lips. This whole mission had just got a whole lot more interesting.  
  
  
  
  
  
**TBC...  
  
  
  
  
  
** _ada - father (daddy)  
mellonamin - my friend  
Lá, lá, atar, útúla sinome (Quenya) - No, no, father, do not come here!_  
_Nánye vanwa morniësse, torninyat (Quenya) - I am lost in darkness, my (two) brothers  
__Lá, atar … úhiruvan tiënya at-elyënna (Quenya) - No, father ... I will not find my way back to you  
Útúla, atar (Quenya) - Do not come, father  
  
  
  
  
  
_***shivers* Uh-oh, they're going to get into trouble! Mhahahahaha! *sighs tiredly* See? My alter ego's back. Marbienl and her pet spider dragged her back from her vacation spot - don't ask me how they found out where she was. So, now she's back and Celylith's in trouble, since I am writing chapter 18 right now... *shrugs* Poor elf. Okay, next chapter we have questions concerning sloths and bears, see more of Adruran and his Merry Men, and the three arrive in Dale. All that and more you'll get in the next post, and reviews really help! So - review? Please??**  
  
  
  


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**Additional A/N:  
  
Halo** - *g* I knew I should have changed the chapter title... Too late now, I guess... *evil grin* I didn't do it on purpose, really! And if I kill Celylith there will be deathly trouble? That should be interesting! You know, you have just given me another reason to kill the dear elf...  
**Alilacia** - As I said, thanks SO MUCH for the idea of the 'Fox' and friends as pirates! I fell off my chair laughing, really, I did! 'Ar, me mateys...' ... *giggles* And no, the weather will go from sunny to cloudy the exact moment I exit my plane. Trust me, it's always like that. Oh, and Celylith and Legolas have been friends for two *millennia*, not centuries, which makes the whole thing even worse, of course... *g* 'WhichCell weekly'? That is a really good magazine! Really, I've been reading it ever since I started writing - just in case Thranduil ever gets a hold of me... *g* LOL, an "un-named-yet-really-close-and-frozen-over-waterfall (UYRCAFOW for short)"??? ROTFL, really, that was just too funny... *g* And I did never say that Celylith dies, okay? Don't say that so loudly, Zam might hear us - it is only a possibility, alright? And I will think about handing out clones if I kill him, okay? Then all the Nólads out there would have some company... *g*  
**Mouse** - Yeah, to be honest, it was a rather pathetic thing to do, but really: Would you want to face Thranduil dragging a half-dead ranger behind? I certainly wouldn't ... but Anardir's to be pitied, that's true. Poor elfsie. *huggles him* Oh, that was an Aussie? So sorry, but the movie was still bad. *shrugs* Hey, it had Nick Nolte who is quite a good actor himself, and it didn't save anything either...  
**Firniswin** - You just felt like laughing? Then please do, since laughing is a very healthy thing to do - or so I've heard... *g* I'm not good at betting either - one of the reasons why I never do it, I guess... I mean, it's a 50-50 chance and I still lose every time! That's virtually impossible! *shrugs* That's life - my life, that is...  
**XsilicaX** - You noticed the shirtless bit? *shakes head* Not even _I_ thought of that! But he was bandaged, so it doesn't really count, huh? *evil grin* Wow, a single line can do that to you? Now, that is interesting... And of course Celylith is betting, evil elf that he is - he deserves death, don't you think? J/k!!! Really! *runs off to escape Cathy's wrath* And I promise I'll think of Glor - he could get hurt trying to protect the twins or Estel, what do you think?  
**TrinityTheSheDevil** - Hmm, Thranduil ... throw a fit? Scream at the messenger? Something like that, I think... *sighs* Johnny Depp... I love Johnny Depp, he is just perfect, really.... And yes, rub it in, 'The Hulk' was really bad. It wasn't even funny! *grrrr* Hidalgo? I know that name, but what is that again?  
**TigerLily713** - Yeah well, many people don't agree with the Thranduil-Elrond-friendship, and technically speaking, they're right. I mean, they probably never were great friends or anything, but I couldn't let Elrond stay there for month and let them hate each other, could I? And you're right, Legolas really does like mothering him - as does Aragorn, mothering Legolas, I mean... Thanks for all your nice compliments!   
**Coreinha** - *grabs Celylith* Don't put him in your pocket! He will suffocate in there and then it will all be YOUR fault, not mine! Yesss, precioussss, your faultsss... *g* Well, let's say, they will survive this fic as well - but once again, barely... *evil laugh* With Celylith it's another thing so he still might die, my alter ego's back, after all... *g*  
**Imbefaniel **- Playing catch with a bottle? That does sound insane, I agree... *g* Sure you can place a bet! I just need a dagger of something similar from you and you can place your bet, go ahead... *g* *blinks* You pushed Legolas into your closet? What is it with you guys and closets? Zam and Celylith, you and Legolas... Really! *snickers* And no! His hair has to remain perfect, of course!  
**Reginabean** - Kids ALWAYS have energy - I have no idea where they take it from! Really, it's scary - they are little demons, that's the only explanation! Thranduil's reaction? I don't know, there's really no way to put in here without interrupting the 'flow' of the story, but perhaps I can put it in a flashback in the end. We'll see. *sighs* You too? I merely said that I _might_ kill him - there is that persistent voice in my head telling me to... *g* And I'm still sorry about Nólad, really!  
**Amelie **- Oh, you have a good reason why they shouldn't die? Let's hear it then! If I killled them, I would have no-one left to torture in the next story? That's your reason? Okay, I'll admit that you're right about Aragorn and Legolas, since they are, well, irreplacable, but I could kill Celylith and think of a new elven sidekick... *evil grin* I agree with you that there ARE some readers that would be more than willing to hurt me if I should kill any of them, so be assured that I will think about it long and hard. The review wasn't useless! It was fun! Thanks! *huggles her*  
**Carrie **- 'Anardir, tell my father that we will be getting into trouble and will most likely not be in one piece when we get back home...' LOL! Well, it's the truth, but just a tiny little bit stupid, huh? But hey, that's Legolas we're talking about... *evil grin* Hey! *huggles Anardir* He's not a wacko elf! I might need him in future stories, so don't hurt him! *sobs* I am losing my touch? AM I?? AM I REALLY??? *breaks down sobbing* Noooooo.... *wipes away tears* Okay, I can only restore my reputation by KILLING Celylith, now can I? Mahahahaha! I really hope you had fun in NYC! Thanks for reviewing, and your story rocks! I will review as soon as I can, promise! *huggles Carrie*  
**Gwyn **- *points at dictionary* See for yourself! ...READER: Person, male or female, also known as _-Loonie_. Can react highly unpredictable when reading _-Cliffhangers. _Sometimes the readers join together in packs, in this form very dangerous... See? I told you so! You like me!! *huggles Gwyn* Thank you! I knew you liked me! I'm a nice person, after all! *g* About the cliffies: REAL cliffies - the things _I_ call cliffies, aren't in the next few chapters, I'm afraid, I am too busy explaining things. But a few minor cliffies are coming up, I think, so don't worry.  
**Firnsarnien **- Great you liked the no-cliffy bit! I thought I should give you some time to recover before the next cliffies, huh? And I do pity Celylith, really, he should have listened to Legolas and returned to Mirkwood... Now it's too late, stupid elfsie... *g* You have been traumatised for life by Nólad's death? Well, I am very sorry about that, really, because I really liked him, and I just said that I _might_ kill him, okay? It's just a possibility... 'Near drowming in a tup of honey'? well, I actually think death is better than that! *g* You would lynch me? You would? Well, you'd have to get past my warg, the nazgûl and a balrog first...  
**Eva **- Oh, yes, the relationship between Imladris and Mirkwood.... Thranduil: Ah, my lord Elrond, here is your son... *shoves bandaged Aragorn into his direction* Elrond: What? I can't even see him for all the bandages! What happened? Thranduil: Oh, you know, the usual ... Mercenaries, treasure hunters, frozen lakes, nightmares... Elrond: Enough! This means WAR!!! *giggles* That'd be really bad, huh? Your wargs, from a gentleman who cackles a lot? Hmm, who could that be? But I have my own warg, Fred sr., and Stan the balrog, and the Nazgûl, of course... *evil grin*   
**A Person **- *g* But I love idle threats! Well, I wouldn't like you to fall into depression or anything, now would I? Besides, I really don't want a pancake in my eye (A pancake? Are you mad? *g*), so here's the next bit! Thanks for your reviews!  
**Fliewatuet **- *nods* Yes, it's a stupid idea, kind of, but then again, it's Aragorn and Legolas we are talking about! All their ideas are stupid! As I said, I don't know yet if I can put the Anardir/Thranduil confrontation (And the '/' between the two names is just coincidental, really!) in, right now I can't think of a way that wouldn't interrupt the 'flow' of the story. Perhaps a flashback in the end? I'll see what I can do. Well, and about the chapters: The secret is that I always am a few chapters ahead, if you know what I mean. Right now I'm writing chapter 18, so even if I hadn't had time to write much in a week, I can still update. Usually I need three-four days for a chapter, so that helps too... *g*  
**Strider's Girl **- *blushes* Well, thank you! It's great you like the stories! And the plot bunnies? Well, most of them just appear out of nowhere. They pop up quite frequently in college during especially boring lectures though, there's something in those classrooms that just inspires me to hurt someone, I guess... *g* Thanks for your review!  
**Lady Sandrilene **- Well, you have changed your name! I don't know what it means, but it sounds good! Yeah, and Aragorn _is_ talking about them, the poor boy... *huggles the ranger* His life is not easy, is it? No, I suppose not, with all the FF writers waiting to hurt him... *g* Thanks a lot for reviewing!  
**CrazyLOTRfan **- Yeah, apparently all the elves he knows want to mother him! Must be connected to his Innocent-little-Estel-look... *g* Hah! You don't think that I ONLY have a balrog, now do you? I mean, yes, there is Stan, but I have Fred Sr., a vicious warg Miki has given me, and the Nazgûl of course - they live in my bathroom... *g* Stop pushing me! *points at cinema* It's not here yet! Stop rubbing it in, will you? Jeez, Canadians... *g* J/k! Really!  
**Nikara **- *nods* Yup, they will. I mean, he just seems to attract that kind of treatment, doesn't he? *huggles her baby ranger* Poor boy! And I could never write a torture scene much longer than this, I HATE writing them! Really! Angst in this chapter? Whatever gave you that idea, my friend? I never write angst, you should know that... *g* Great I managed to surprise you! I had feared the treasure aspect would be to obvious... *huggles her* Thanks for the reviews!  
**Arwen-Evenstar **- *grins evilly* Yeah, I don't envy Anardir either... Having to tell Thranduil that his son has just left on a stupid, suicidal mission... *shakes head* That doesn't sound like fun, no, precioussss.... *g* Great you liked the chapter!  
**Maranwe **- Uh, you have to wait so long, because ... because they need three days to get to Dale! That's it! And because I almost forgot about it, that's why... *hangs head* No internet till Tuesday? That's horrible, poor you! *hugs her* Truly a horryfying experience.. Well, my chapters delight in being longer than I want them to be! I mean, I am aiming for 12 or 13 pages, and each time they turn out to be 15-16 pages! We hatesss them, preciousss... Thanks so much for your review!  
**Aron **- *g* I'm afraid they can't hear you - but you're right, of course... They SHOULD run, as fast as they can, but they're stupid, aren't they? So, in a way the deserve what they get! So I should just torture/injure him? Well, okay, I will think about it... Great you like the story so far! Thanks for reviewing!  
**Marbienl **- *blushes* Great you like them, Marbienl, really ... even though I would never go as far as comparing them to C&S... Celylith being like a flame? Well, I haven't really seen it like this before, but I guess it's a possibility, sorry... Well, no, I didn't like Lomar much, but I kinda like Adruran. I don't know what to do with him either... You're an elf then? Well, I'm just a normal person, I guess ... you know, I'm not obsessed THAT way. I love the books and the movies and am learning Sindarin and Quenya and the History of Middle-earth, but I don't imagine being whatever or watch movies just because one of the actors was in it years ago. It's a kind of obsession as well, but a rather rational one, I think. Break someone's thumbs? Ah well, I'll think about it ... perhaps the next fic... Yes, Aragorn is escaping healers quite a lot, isn't he? Well, that's just what I would do, so... And DAMN YOU for bringing her alter ego back! She has lots of new ideas and evil things to do to our fav. elves and ranger - all YOUR fault! Yes, nightmares are coming up now, thanks a lot for your long review!  
**Seveawen **- Oh, you're getting married? I hope I'm invited, I mean it was _me_ who brought the two of you together after all! I'm sure you will live long and prosper... *g* Uhm, I'm giving you ideas? So sorry about that - I can't help myself! It's my evil nature, I guess... *g* You counted? 44 times? Really? Wow, that's a lot, I never knew I said such things so often... Hope you friend gets better soon! Thanks for reviewing!  
**Alexa **- *sighs* I know, it's getting really long... Not that that's a bad thing, of course, I LOVE every single review, but I think I will have to cut it back some in the near future. Either that or I'll need an extra day to get the chapters ready.... We'll see... *shrugs* Well, define 'action'?! The next few chapters are rather quiet, I think, it's because a lot needs to be prepared and explained, so it's not that much action, no... Sorry. Uh, you're right, I guess. I have never seen it that way, that I would kill Legolas as well ... but no, he could go to Valinor to heal - j/k! Really! And you're right, I wouldn't get as many reviews - we can't have that! *g*  
**Shadow Warrior **- *huggles her* And I thank you for that! A short review is much better than no review! And RL can be a real b**** sometimes, I agree... Thanks for reviewing!  
**Stacee Phelps **- See? You reviewed, and a day later the chapter's here! It really works, you see? *g* And NO, it was NOT a cliffy! This one isn't either, even though I will admit that it's a bit more cliffy-like than the last. But still no cliffy. *g*  
**Alex Mistress Squirrel **- 'Don't kill Celylith because he's a smart, responsible one'? LOL, I will surely tell him that, even though Aragorn and Legolas might disagree... But as I said, I will think about it, okay? Thanks for all your reviews!  
**LeggyLover 03 **- The sequel ... hm, I think after I've finished this one, huh? *runs off to escape angry reader* Yeah, I know that you knew that... To answer the question: I don't know yet. Probably sometime in October, I guess.... And I really hate to disappoint you, but I never said there was going to be any Elrond engst in the sequel - you know why? Because he probably isn't even going to be in it. That's logical, hmm? Sorry, but there's nothing I can do about that.  
**Alisha **- Yeah, someone is thinking in the group - but no-one is listening to him! *g* And you're right, Celylith would be a lot safer in Mirkwood, to be honest, that was what I had been planning for him in the beginning. But somehow I got bitten by that plotbunny and then... *blushes* Great you like the comments. It's just my wicked, odd sense of humour, I guess... *broad grin* I'm glad someone like that sadistic mass murderer scene, I was snickering myself when I wrote it. And Celylith can't come and make you better right now - he either is in Zam's closet or in Cor's pocket. I dunno why they keep doing that, really, the poor elf... *huggles her* I loved the review! Thanks so much, and I hope I didn't let you wait too long!**  
Aratfeniel ** - Who _doesn't_ like to talk like Gollum, precioussss? Whossss doessssn't? *g* See, you have company. If you read my A/N you will soon see that that happens quite a lot to me as well... 3 weeks and no computer? The horror! That is against human rights or something... *g* And you thought that the wargs were cute? Really, there I have to agree with your friends: You're insane. But the dragon thingies the Nazgûl rode, THEY were cute! *g* It's great that you're still reading this - thanks a lot! *huggles her*  
  
**Well, as you can see, I have decided to put the names in bold letters so you would find your replies more quickly! I love all my reviewers, so the least I can do is make things easier for you! *huggles all reviewers* Thanks so much for your support!**  
  
  
  



	15. Of Sloths And Bears

**Disclaimer: **For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.  
  
  
**A/N:   
  
*innocent look a various readers* No, just WHY do you guys think that Geran will cause trouble?** **Whatever gave you _that_ idea? But now that you mention it, I see what you mean... *ducks some heavy objects* Okay, okay, I admit it: The dear Geran has a very high villain potential, I'll give you that. But I can't tell you what he's going to do, that would ruin the whole thing, so you'll have to wait a bit, sorry...  
  
*glares at Trish, Coreinha, Zam and several other people* Okay, now it has gone too far! Because you insist on stuffing poor Celylith into closets/pockets/whatever, people are beginning to think that this is normal procedure here! Now Legolas is being kidnapped as well! So, PLEASE, stop doing that.** **The poor elf will have enough trouble on his own soon without you guys stuffing him into closets, so no kidnapping my characters! Understood? *threatening look* Okay, I hope so... **  
  
**Oh, and I agree, btw. The nightmares are really nasty, and it IS good that that stubborn human has finally talked about them. Took him long enough too... *shrugs* He is kind of stupid, isn't he?  
  
  
Well, alright, here's chapter 15! Please don't ask me where the sloth scene came from, it must have been cooked up by the demented part of my brain, and yes, it's quite large... *g* Beside that, we see more of Adruran and his men, and they get to Dale! Yay them!  
  
  
Have fun and review, please!**  
  
  
  


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Chapter 15  
  
  
Aragorn awoke to the chirping of birds outside, feeling more rested and relaxed than he had in months, more precisely not since his father and brothers had left Mirkwood. Somehow his adopted father's presence had served to keep the better part of the nightmares at bay, but since he had left more than four weeks ago, the dreams had been a permanent part of his nights.  
  
The young ranger stretched slightly, but kept his eyes closed, trying to cling to the last remnants of sleep as long as possible. He would even have been able to return to sleep if it hadn't been for these incredibly annoying birds somewhere close by. Mentally cursing the animals profusely, he was just asking himself why Ilúvatar hadn't created those annoying chirping little things mute since their voices didn't serve any discernable purpose anyway, when the flap of his tent was thrown aside and bright daylight poured into the small space.  
  
"Look, my lord," a far too amused elven voice said with an air of great surprise. "It is a human!"  
  
"Are you sure about that, _mellonamin_?" Legolas' voice countered quizzically, and Aragorn could almost see how the prince cocked his head to the side. "I think it looks more like a sloth."  
  
"Nay, my prince," Celylith said, "It is too large for that."  
  
"True, true," the fair haired elf mumbled, and Aragorn could feel something poke him in the leg. The young man growled in annoyance and pulled his blanket over his head.  
  
"Did you hear that?" Legolas added, grinning at his elven friend. "That was the sound of a bear, I am sure of it!"  
  
"But, your Highness," Celylith retorted in mock seriousness, "For that is again too small."  
  
"Hmm," Legolas made, frowning in thought. "It might be a little one."  
  
The two elves grinned at the form of the ranger that was trying his best to ignore them.  
  
"You mean, like a baby, my lord?" the silver haired elf asked, barely being able to contain his laughter.  
  
"Aye," Legolas nodded, noting with great amusement how the body of the man stiffened in indignation. He poked the curled up form of his friend with the tip of his new bow again, and this time Aragorn's growl sounded even more authentic. "Indeed, it must be one."  
  
"Look out, my prince!" Celylith cried out in mock alarm, grasping the other elf's arm and pulling him backwards a step or two. "It might attack! Perhaps it's hibernating in here!"  
  
"Funny," an annoyed voice growled, "Very, very funny."  
  
"Thank you," Legolas said loftily, raising an eyebrow when the blanket was slowly thrown back and a dark head appeared. "We are doing our best."  
  
Grey eyes opened and blinked owlishly at them while the rest of the sleepy face scowled darkly.  
"Get. Out. Of. My. Tent."  
  
Celylith and Legolas looked at each other, both raising a questioning eyebrow. The elven prince turned back to his human friend.  
"Get up, Estel. You have slept for more than twelve hours."  
  
The ranger's eyes grew large.  
"Twelve hours? I haven't!"  
  
"Yes, you have," Celylith nodded, hiding a small smile of satisfaction. He had been very pleased to hear that that stubborn ranger had finally told Legolas about his dreams, which must have been truly horrifying, judging by Legolas' expression last night.   
He had of course not asked his prince what they had been about, for he would never expect the other elf to betray Aragorn's trust, but he wasn't stupid either. In all likelihood the young man relived his captivity from a few months ago, and that was enough to provide anyone with enough material for several years' worth of nightmares.  
  
"We thought you could use the rest," Legolas added, giving the ranger an openly concerned look. "Have you slept well?"  
  
"Better than in months," Aragorn answered and smiled at his elven friend, meeting his eyes evenly. While he knew that the dreams wouldn't disappear just like that, it helped enormously to know that his best friend didn't think him weak and was willing to help him fight them. "Truly, I have."  
  
The elven prince returned the smile and nodded at the man.  
"Then I am glad, my friend." Silver-blue eyes twinkling, he added, "And now get up! It is nearly midday, and if we don't get a move on soon we won't even need to break camp but will be able to stay here for a second night."  
  
The young human sat up and aimed a playful smack at his friend's bow, ignoring the dangerous flash that could shortly be seen in the elf's eyes at that impudence as he hastily pulled his weapon to safety.  
"You could have woken me sooner!"  
  
"And risk an attack?" Celylith asked grinning. "Hibernating bears can be highly unpredictable."  
  
"Sloths," Legolas interjected, slowly edging backwards when Aragorn stood to his feet, a dangerous expression on his face. "I still think he looked more like a sloth."  
  
"We have been through this already, Legolas," Celylith rolled his eyes, ignoring the man that was coming closer, "He is too large for one." He furrowed his brow. "Do sloths hibernate?"  
  
Legolas didn't answer but turned and quickly moved out of his human friend's reach who had obviously just decided that he had endured more than his fair share of teasing this morning. Aragorn just looked after the swiftly departing elves, knowing full well that he wouldn't be able to get them in his still sleepy state.  
  
'A sloth?' he thought as he walked over to the horses that were standing close by, ignoring his elven friends' laughing voices that called to each other to beware of the "Terrible Sloth". 'A _sloth_?'  
  
It wasn't his fault that humans needed sleep, he decided grumpily, taking out some dried fruit and meat (oddly enough, there was almost no cram left), feeling famished all of the sudden.  
  
Settling down next to the fire, he took out his sword and placed it next to him, making sure that those two immature elves saw exactly what he was doing.   
  
He would show them what this particular sloth could do, once they came back into his reach.   
  
If sloths were one thing, they were patient.  
  
  
  
  
Adruran looked around the little camp, noting with satisfaction that the beige tents seemed to blend into the snowy surroundings up to a certain degree. It wasn't enough to fool an elf or even a ranger even from some distance away, but for the Men of Dale it should be more than enough. Nobody really had a business being here, and since the lands that had not too long ago been known as the Desolation of Smaug were none too hospitable this time of year, he could feel reasonably safe.  
  
Besides, he had posted guards in the trees all around them, so even if someone should find them – which he doubted, but one could never be too careful – he or she wouldn't be walking around telling people about them, since dead people tended not to talk too much. Unless their spirits returned to haunt the living, but that did not really count as dead then.  
  
The brown haired man shook his head, disgusted at himself. Where had that thought come from? All this waiting was apparently not good for his ability to think reasonably, and the news Hanar had brought were far from comforting either.  
  
Adruran sat down on a boulder next to one of the camp fires his men had kindled and watched Geran and another man who were involved in a friendly knife fight. The boy had definitely some skill with a blade, and he could have ended the unequal fight a long time ago, but in the older man's eyes he enjoyed playing with the other man.  
  
Yet another problem: Geran. He wearily closed his eyes, but refrained from sighing just in time. There was no reason to let his men see that he was, in fact, very close to going insane with waiting.  
  
Adruran forced his thoughts off this topic and back to his problems at hand, starting with Geran. The boy would have to be watched, and he already regretted having taken him on this mission. He, Adruran, was a professional, and while he might be brutal and ruthless when the times called for it, he did not relish other being's pain.   
  
Geran did, most certainly. That alone would not have been so much of a problem, but there was his ambition as well, his ambition to hunt and kill every being in Middle-Earth, a goal which he was rather close to attaining, by the way. Even though he was hardly older than 25 years, he had already a rather impressive trophy collection, and Adruran had no doubt that one day the younger man would indeed manage to attain his goal.  
  
Right now, however, this ambition was at the very least annoying, if not dangerous. Even though Geran may have thought that he had hidden it well, Adruran had seen the almost fanatic gleam in the younger man's dark eyes when Hanar had mentioned the elves. This was indeed not good, Adruran thought. Stopping the boy from going after a dwarf had been hard enough – even though he might allow it a little bit later, it would only serve to make everything appear more authentic – but now that he knew that there were probably elves coming here, it would be twice as hard.  
  
'Wonderful,' he thought, 'Now all I need is yet another ranger and everything goes straight from bad to catastrophic.'  
  
There he was at the second and third problem: The ranger and the elves. Hanar had left before the man had revealed anything of interest, and secretly Adruran doubted that he had at all. In his experience, which was formidable after all, it was more likely to convince a dwarf to cut off his beard than to be able to make a ranger talk.  
  
Which, once again, brought him to the most pressing problem: Who were these elves? What did they know? Where was Lomar? Was the Elvenking involved in all this?   
If he was, then he might as well send his men home and hang himself, he thought somewhat dryly. If what he had heard about the king was true, he was quite fond of silver and jewels himself and if he had found out whom the treasure belonged to…  
  
Adruran shook his head. There were too many questions and far too few answers, so wondering about things he could neither influence nor understand right now would hardly prove to help his situation. He would simply have to wait and see, and there he was back to Square One: Waiting.  
  
He really, really hated waiting.  
  
"Sir!" a shout to his left made him turn around, and he saw two men come closer, one of them a guard posted to watch over the camp somewhere to the north and the other one of the men that were keeping an eye on the Lake-men's camp.  
  
He did not get up from his boulder but looked at them calmly, waiting for them to come closer.  
  
"Sir!" the guard said again, hoping inwardly that his captain was in a better mood today. Usually Adruran was a rather fair man, but lately he had been known to react rather unpredictably. "I brought him here since we changed campsites yesterday."  
  
"Well done," the older man nodded at the guard. "Return to your post."  
  
The guard nodded and walked away, quickly disappearing between the dark, leafless trees, the snow crunching softly under his boots.  
  
Adruran looked at the other man, raising an eyebrow questioningly.   
"If you are not here to tell me that those incompetent sons of orcs have found something, _anything_, you will regret having ever come in the first place."  
  
The man swallowed nervously, hoping that this was one of the times when his superior showed his questionable sense of humour.  
"Uhm, well, sir, I…"  
  
"Ah!" Adruran held up his hand, battling against the rage that was beginning to bubble inside his chest. "Just say 'They have found something, sir' and everybody will be happy."  
  
Obediently, the other man said,  
  
"They have found something, sir."  
  
"Finally!"   
  
That was Geran's voice, who had finally ceased to play with his opponent and ended the fight. He and Adruran's other two lieutenants had stepped closer while the rest of the men stayed back a little. They knew better than to disturb their commanders during important meetings.  
  
Adruran turned and gave the younger man a dark glare. He didn't appreciate being interrupted by his own men. Noting with satisfaction that the boy was beginning to blush, he turned back to the man in front of him.  
  
"They have found the treasure?"  
  
"Well, sir, as I said…"  
  
Tiddryr, one if Adruran's lieutenants, growled impatiently.  
"Speak plainly, man!"  
  
The other human swallowed again.  
"They haven't found the treasure, sirs, but they have found a good lead, it appears. They have spotted a part of the mountain where they think it is hidden." He grimaced. "They still need to find a way in, though…"  
  
Adruran bit down on his lower lip, frowning in thought.  
"When was that?"  
  
"Yesterday evening," the man replied quickly. "I stayed until morning and tried to overhear as much of the conversation as possible and set out in the morning hours. They said something about having to look for the entrance and about dwarves that seemed entirely too interested in their activities, even though they didn't think that they knew what they are here for, but that was about all I was able to hear."  
  
"That's more than enough," Adruran nodded and dismissed the man with a quick wave of his hand. "Go and have something to eat; in the evening you will take a fresh horse and return."  
  
The other man snapped to attention.  
"Yes, sir!"  
  
He turned and quickly disappeared in a nearby tent, looking for some food and a warm fire.  
  
Adruran gave his lieutenants a sign and they stood up and walked a bit out of the camp to make sure none of the men would be able to overhear their conversation. It wasn't that Adruran didn't trust his men, for they all knew how terribly stupid it was to antagonise their captain, but there was no reason for them to know more than they absolutely had to.   
  
They stopped under a large pine tree, and Adruran looked at all of them in turn.  
"The dwarves must not find out just yet. It was to be expected that they would notice something, but they must not get close enough to confirm their suspicions."  
  
The three men nodded, and Bleon asked,  
  
"What do we do then? It appears that they still need some time to find the entrance, and the elves could be coming closer as well."  
  
Adruran ran a callous hand through his brown hair, appearing perfectly aware of this but inwardly cursing himself. The elves, Great Ones, he had really forgotten all about them for a second…  
  
"We will break camp," he said after a moment. "We will relocate, closer to their camp. We need to be able to act should they manage to get through that mountain. We cannot allow them to run around telling anyone about their discovery, as they surely will once they have found something. They are too stupid not to."  
  
He studied the slowly sinking sun before he added,  
  
"About the dwarves … we will cross that bridge when we come to it. I don't want to have any trouble with them, not yet, but should they find out what the Lake-men are after, there will be a lot of that, believe me. We can try to keep them away, but that is all. Sooner or later they will find out, we can only try to delay the moment when they will."  
  
He paused for a moment, creasing his brow in thought. Then he looked up and continued.  
"That should work. We need to make sure that the Lake-men's camp stays isolated, and that neither the Men of Dale nor the dwarves find out anything just yet. As soon as they actually find something, we will strike." Adruran gave the three men a hard look. "Get the men ready, we will leave tomorrow morning. It is already too late now, since we wouldn't want them to hear us because we are stumbling around in the dark, now would we?"  
  
Bleon and Tiddryr nodded and turned on the heel, heading towards the camp and calling the men together to let them know of the change in plans. Geran however remained behind, looking at the older man questioningly.  
  
"What about the elves? Even if the Elvenking is not involved and all of this is a coincidence they will cause trouble, especially if they have learned anything from Lomar."  
  
Adruran's face darkened as he admitted to himself that this was exactly what he had been thinking the whole time. It didn't really matter whether the ranger had survived his little encounter with Lomar or not, the fact that his man was not here could only mean one thing: He had been delayed, and assuming that the elves had nothing to do with that would be folly.  
  
"Lomar wouldn't have told them anything," he said, in part trying to reassure himself with these words.  
  
"No," Geran nodded calmly, "He wouldn't have. But these are elves, and there are ways to find out anyway, especially if they found them before Lomar killed the ranger. They will be coming to Dale then. What are you going to do about them, sir?"  
  
Adruran looked at the younger man, noticing the bright sparkle of tension and anticipation in the brown eyes. Geran was already planning his next hunting session, that much was sure.  
  
"They're not your problem," he said gruffly. "If they come indeed here, I will see that they are taken care of, and you won't go anywhere near them until I have given you permission to. Understood?"  
  
Geran nodded.  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"You are dismissed. Get your men ready to travel."  
  
Without another word the young man turned and walked back into the direction of the camp, leaving an annoyed and rather anxious Adruran behind. They both knew that Geran's last words had been a lie; there was no way the boy would be able to control himself should the elves really come to Dale.  
  
Adruran slowly began to follow his lieutenants, watching the sun sink lower, now already beginning to disappear behind the trees. Damn those elves, he thought not for the first time, damn them and all of their kind!  
  
He shook his head quickly, forcing himself to calm down. The elves wouldn't be a problem, for he had an advantage over them: He knew exactly where they would be going once they came here. Sooner or later, they would come to find him, and then he would be ready.  
  
No, he thought again with a grim smile, the elves wouldn't be a problem. They would be taken care of, just as he had told the boy. He wouldn't let them ruin his plan, for that he had worked too hard and too long on this.  
  
  
  
  
"I think he is still asleep."  
  
"Be silent, elf."  
  
"I have to agree, my lord. I thought after two good nights' sleep in a row he would be more alert, but perhaps sloths react that way when you disturb their hibernation period?"  
  
"Quiet, Celylith, or I will have to relieve you of that silver head of yours."  
  
Legolas grinned at the irate ranger that was riding between the two of them.  
"Would that be a two-toed sloth or a three-toed one? The few people I have met who have actually seen one insisted that there was a difference. Besides, we have never really established whether or not sloths do hibernate at all, my friend."  
  
Celylith returned the grin, eyeing the young man with an evil glint in his dark blue eyes.  
"Well, apparently they do, or he is indeed a bear cub." He easily ducked a blow Aragorn had aimed at his head and added smugly, "But no, Legolas, now I see it: He is a sloth."  
  
Aragorn ducked his head and closed his eyes: Here it came. Elbereth, these two were almost as bad as his brothers…  
  
"'Once, in a dark tent, there was a stupid sloth…'" Celylith began, smiling evilly.  
  
"'…masking itself, for it went garbed like a man in cloth…'" Legolas went on, with a wicked grin and in a particularly annoying sing-song voice. Aragorn felt very tempted to simply draw his sword and do something he would have trouble explaining to Lord Thranduil later, but experience collected over the past 36 hours stopped him just in time.  
  
Legolas and Celylith were merely warming up; if he provoked them they might start singing that particular stupid and annoying poem once more instead of merely reciting it, as they had done yesterday evening. The entire evening, one might add, non-stop.  
  
"I wouldn't be so quick with my words if I were you, Leafie," he simply retorted, starting to grin as well.  
  
Legolas, who had been about to recite the next line of the poem he and Celylith had come up with yesterday morning while they had been waiting for the human to calm down after their initial discussion about this subject, closed his mouth with a snap and glared at his now snickering companions.  
  
By the Valar, he had so hoped that they had already forgotten that accursed name…  
  
"He got you there, Legolas," his elven friend snickered helplessly.  
  
The fair haired elf sent Aragorn a fiery look that should rightly have set at least his hair ablaze and, for a fleeting moment, he was distracted by a rather attractive picture of Aragorn running around screaming with his head on fire until he reluctantly returned to the present.  
  
"Do not use that name ever again, _dúnadan_," he said in a dangerous tone of voice that, while it would have impressed any other man, failed to have any effect on the young human next to him. "Or I will make sure that you will share that abominable spider's fate."  
  
"Wilwarin isn't abominable, Legolas…" Celylith began to protest, but was cut off by Aragorn's laughing voice.  
  
"What, you would put a hood over my head and drag me home to my family?" He laughed even harder, holding onto his horse's mane to stop himself from falling off the animal. "That should prove to be an interesting experience, so, by all means, you are welcome to try. Leafie."  
  
Now it was Legolas' term to duck his head. He couldn't even begin to describe how much he hated that name, almost as much as that accursed spider itself. One of those days he would get that horrible thing, he decided, and then may Ilúvatar have mercy on it, because he would certainly have none…  
  
"How are the burns doing, Estel?" he asked in a rather pathetic attempt to change the subject.  
  
Aragorn glared darkly at the elven prince.  
"Low, my friend, that was very, very low. Even for you."  
  
"That didn't answer my question," the fair haired elf smiled at the ranger.   
  
"No, it didn't," Aragorn agreed, obviously not too inclined to give his friend any information at all.  
  
"Then how are they?"  
  
"How is who?"  
  
Legolas sighed.  
"Not 'who', human, but 'what'. How are the burns, and you know that."  
  
Aragorn looked up innocently at his friend, but in reality appearing about as innocent as a man with a bloody knife in his hand.  
"Burns? What burns? I cannot remember any burns."  
  
"Aragorn…" Legolas growled exasperatedly.  
  
"Legolas…" the young man imitated his elven friend's tone of voice.  
  
"Valar! Enough, please!" Celylith finally exclaimed, looking at them with wide, frightened eyes. He was very close to banging his head against a nearby tree, or, on second thought, banging _their_ heads against a nearby tree.  
  
The silver haired elf looked at his two friends.  
"Can you not stop this behaviour for at least a minute! I swear to you that I will lose all the restraint I still have if you are not silent now! We will reach Dale in a few hours, but if you aren't quiet now, I will drown you in the Celduin, so help me Eru!"  
  
The other two ducked their heads sheepishly and waited until Celylith's horse had moved a little ahead.  
  
"What is wrong with him?" Aragorn whispered silently, knowing full well that the silver haired elf would be able to hear him.  
  
Legolas shrugged, grinning slightly.  
"I don't know, Strider. Perhaps he is ill?"  
  
"Elves do not fall ill!"   
  
The young ranger and the elven prince ignored Celylith's indignant shout.  
  
"Perhaps it's the cram," Aragorn suggested earnestly, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Perhaps it has caused a severe allergic reaction in his body that manifests itself in bouts of unprovoked screaming, yelling, general impatience and bad temper? Since he hadn't had it as often as you have, he hasn't been able to build up immunity to its effects yet. In combination with his Lórien blood it could have developed this far. We all know the Galadhrim are naturally short-tempered. Just look at Haldir."  
  
Legolas ignored his angrily spluttering elven companion and looked at the man, admiration in his blue eyes.  
"Did you come up with that just now?"  
  
The ranger nodded proudly, paying the seething elf that rode in front of them no heed.   
  
Legolas inclined his head to his friend.  
"You have my utmost respect. That sounded quite convincing. But," he paused, sending Celylith's back a wicked look, "I have another theory. Would you like to hear it?"  
  
"Oh, yes!" Aragorn exclaimed, grinning at the fair haired elf. "So, what do you think has caused our dear friend Celylith's odd behaviour?"  
  
Aforementioned elf was doing his best to ignore the two of them and trying with all his might to listen to his inner voice that sounded a note of caution.  
  
'Do not strangle them, do not strangle them, do not strangle them…'  
  
He sighed inaudibly, reminding himself time and again that his king would not be impressed with him if he killed the heir to the throne.  
  
Ilúvatar, he could hardly wait to get to Dale, that might get them off this topic. Perhaps. Then again, perhaps not.  
  
  
  
  
Two hours later, darkness was falling and the first stars could faintly be seen in the darkening skies. Usually this was a time of day Celylith liked almost as much as the sunrise, but today it was different.  
  
Today he needed all his strength not to draw his sword and decapitate one of the still snickering beings behind him. No, he thought shortly afterwards, make that both of them. They were still on the same topic, after two hours, Elbereth help him! The elven prince and the ranger had been doing nothing else in those past two hours than converse loudly about the various things that could have caused Celylith's "odd" behaviour, and now he had reached the point where he was not really sure if he could restrain himself if they weren't quiet soon.  
  
Very, very soon.  
  
He ignored the voice of his prince who was just explaining to Aragorn why he thought that Celylith had ingested a poisonous mushroom that right now was only making him irritable but would soon turn his face purple and reined in his horse, breathing a sigh of relief at the scene that spread out in front of his eyes.  
  
"Dale," he said quietly, thanking each and every Vala that they had reached their destination. He really wasn't sure for how much longer he would have been able to bear these two.  
  
"…the mushroom has side-effects as well, of course. For example, it makes the hair stand on end … what?"  
  
"We are here," Celylith said calmly, looking at his two companions that had been too absorbed in their jesting to have paid much attention to their surrounding. They probably wouldn't even have noticed if an orc horde had travelled with them for a while, the silver haired elf decided grumpily.  
  
"Already?" Aragorn asked, an evil twinkle in his eyes. "That was a bit quicker than I had expected."  
  
"Quicker?" Celylith asked, and the young man carefully manoeuvred his horse away from the elf's. He had always known that Celylith was a fierce warrior and had fought at his side more than once, but he had never seen him look this murderously.  
  
Legolas seemed to have noticed that as well, for he suppressed the grin that was threatening to show on his face and looked down into the valley that spread out before their eyes, and he was amazed to see that it had indeed changed since his last visit, so much that he almost wouldn't have recognised it.  
  
They had come from the South, following the River Running upstream, and were now standing at the point where the stream sloped to the East in a wide bow, describing a semicircle until it reached the Southern slopes of the Lonely Mountain where it had its source.  
  
In this semicircle formed by the river there lay the town of Dale where Bard the Bowman had his residence. In the days of Smaug all there had been were ruins, rocks and scorched trees, the valley had been dead, cold and lifeless and only a shadow of the lush green place it had once been.  
  
Now, twelve years after the death of the dragon, the valley was beginning to resemble the place Legolas could still remember, even though snow covered most of the lands right now. In the valley defined by the river and the mountain formed there was the re-built town of Dale with its walls, houses and towers, shining invitingly in the growing darkness. It was still a far way off from the splendour of the town of old, but it was getting there, slowly but surely.  
  
Even the outer watch-posts were slowly being rebuilt, and the street that led up to the mountain (even thought Legolas could not really understand why one would want to build a road that made it even easier for dwarves to reach you) was newly paved, something that only his and Celylith's eyes could see, for it began on the northern side of the town and was too far away for Aragorn's mortal eyesight.  
  
Legolas smiled slightly when he saw the trees the Men of Dale had planted on the slopes of the mountain in an attempt to recreate the large woods that had covered them and a substantial part of the valley itself once. It was good to see that there were men whose only aim in life was not to cut down and destroy living things.  
  
"They did all this in twelve years?" Aragorn asked astonished, eyes wide as he surveyed the valley in front of them.  
  
"Aye," Legolas nodded, laughing quietly. "They did all this in twelve years. It was their home, and rebuilding your home never takes much time."  
  
"Apparently," The young ranger mumbled softly, beginning to spur on his horse again. "Are you coming or do you want to stand here until you freeze to death?"  
  
Legolas laughed again and began to follow the man, reluctantly followed by Celylith, who wondered if death would be that bad. He would go to the Halls of Mandos, after all, and he very much doubted that the occupants of these Misty Halls were as annoying as his travelling companions. But then again, he wouldn't be able to protect these two anymore, which would surely result in their death, and then he would be swiftly followed by Legolas who would probably annoy him for all eternity for getting him and the ranger killed.  
  
'No,' he thought as they drew closer to the town gates, 'The Halls of Mandos are_ not_ an option.'  
  
After ten more minutes they had reached the gates, and were immediately stopped by several large gatekeepers, men that didn't exactly look as if they had received this particular duty because of their intelligence and gentle nature.   
  
"Halt!" one of them called, apparently the leader. That fitted, Legolas thought dryly, he was the biggest and stupidest looking of the whole lot. "What are you doing here?"  
  
Celylith raised an ironic eyebrow, not in the mood to deal with arrogant humans right now.  
"Riding?"  
  
Before his elven companions had the chance to antagonise the gatekeepers any further, Aragorn quickly dismounted, mumbling under his breath about stupid, stubborn elves.  
  
"We are travellers," he explained with a light nod at the other man. "We are coming from Lake-town and are hoping to find a place to spend the night here."  
  
"You are not from the mountain, then?" the leader asked.  
  
"Mountain?" Legolas asked perplexed. "What mountain? You mean Erebor?"  
  
The man narrowed his eyes at the elf.  
"No need to get cocky! 'Course I mean Erebor, do you see another one around here?"  
  
Aragorn could feel how the elves' temper was rising, and he hurriedly said,  
  
"No, we are not. These are the Lords Legolas and Celylith from Mirkwood, elves from King Thranduil's Halls, and my name is Strider."  
  
The leader scratched his head, managing to look even stupider, which was an accomplishment in itself. He had never been very good with directions, the man thought.  
"So you have no business with them dwarves, have you?"  
  
Celylith and Legolas looked at the man as if he had just turned into a slimy, thoroughly disgusting insect.  
"Of course not!" Legolas said, his very tone of voice conveying the absurdity of that question.  
  
"Hmm," the man said, obviously thinking long and hard. "You can pass then, I think."  
  
"Thank you very much," Celylith said with a smile, his voice positively dripping with sarcasm, a fact that was lost on the men at the gate though. As mentioned before, they were a little slow on the uptake.  
  
He called to the men on the walls to open the gates, which they did, the large stone gates – which held a certain resemblance to those that guarded the palace of Mirkwood – moving inwards, creaking softly as they did so. The two elves spurred on their horses to a walking gait, and Aragorn remounted his horse, but stopped again before following his companions.  
  
"Why are you so worried about dwarves coming here?"   
  
"Oh," the leader said, a little startled. "Them are causing trouble, they are."  
  
Aragorn resisted the urge to roll his eyes, wondering inwardly how it was possible that he had met quite a few orcs that had appeared more intelligent than this man.  
"What kind of trouble? I thought that Dale and Erebor hadn't had any quarrel for several years now?"  
  
"Well, we don't want any quarrel either!" the man exclaimed heatedly, banging a fist against his leather cuirass. "But they do, coming to town telling lies about us!"  
  
"What kind of lies?" the younger man asked, deciding that this one had about the attention span and intelligence of a five-year-old child.  
  
"They say we have been abducting their people, disturbing their miners and trying to rob them, things like that!" the man said indignantly, and his men nodded in agreement. "The nerve of them! This is our valley! The king's ancestors have been here for centuries!"  
  
"As have the dwarves," Aragorn reminded softly.  
  
"Eh?" the other man asked in confusion, his face beginning to darken.  
  
"It is well," the young ranger assured him quickly and began to follow his friends. "Thank you for letting us pass."  
  
"Nothing to thank us for, sir!" the gatekeeper grinned, looking even stupider this way. "We are merely protecting the city as best as we can!"  
  
Aragorn nodded as he spurred on his horse to catch up with his elven friends, being not too sure of that. The sun had already sunk below the horizon and darkness was falling; the gates had probably just been closed.  
  
"'Protect the city'?" Celylith asked incredulously. "If they are the only ones standing between the people of this town and destruction, Dale will fall swiftly indeed."  
  
"To whom?" Legolas asked, mild scorn in his voice. "The dwarves? I don't think so!"  
  
"You shouldn't jest about things like that," Aragorn said solemnly, carefully manoeuvring his horse through the still populated alleys, "What the gatekeepers said sounded none too pleasant indeed. There is trouble brewing here, my friends, and it could get out of hand rather quickly."  
  
"You don't think it could really come to hostilities, do you?" the elven prince asked, having of course heard what the man at the gate had told his human friend.  
  
"I don't know," Aragorn shrugged, wincing softly when the left side of his chest protested against that movement. He was tired from the long journey, and the prospect of having his bandages changed by Celylith did nothing to cheer him up either. "I don't know, but there is much tension in the air here. Things go ill between Erebor and Dale."  
  
The two elves nodded reluctantly. They too could feel the tension and anger that hung thickly in the air, almost tangible in its intensity.  
  
"I know what you mean," Legolas nodded thoughtfully as they made their way over to a large stone building that looked like a rather decent inn. "There is unrest in this town, and much suspicion and hostility."  
  
Next to him, Celylith groaned audibly.  
"I told you so, my lord, didn't I? Didn't I? I told you not to come here, and now look! These men here are insane! They thought we had business with dwarves, for Elbereth's sake!"  
  
His two companions laughed lightly, the dark mood lifting again.  
  
"No, Celylith," Aragorn shook his head grinning, "They are not insane. I admit that the gatekeepers were a rare displays of stupidity, but they are not insane. We should ask a few questions tomorrow and see what we can find out."  
  
"Yes," Legolas agreed, eyes dark and serious again. "If it is true and there is unrest stirring in Dale, my father needs to know. This is too close to our borders to be ignored."  
  
"Well, there's one good thing though," his human friend told the blonde elf with an amused sparkle in his eyes. "There is no lake here."  
  
Legolas didn't look amused at all as he lightly jumped off Rashwe's back, patting his horse's neck and preparing to unload it.  
"Very funny, Strider. It was an accident, I don't usually fall into lakes, you know."  
  
Celylith listened to the playful banter as they relieved their horses of their burdens and guided the animals to the stables behind the inn. While his two companions were already going ahead, still joking with each other, the silver haired elf stopped for a second, surveying his surroundings.  
  
He slowly turned to the North, keen eyes fixing on the towering mountain, staring at it like he would stare at an enemy. It rose dark and imposing, from his point of view appearing like a single, huge chunk of stone that grew out of the earth and strained to reach the heavens.  
  
Erebor, he thought, suppressing a sudden, inexplicable shudder, the Lonely Mountain. He could not have thought of a better name himself, Celylith decided after a second, turning away from the looming mountain and beginning to follow his friends.  
  
The elf reached the door that led into the interior of the inn, songs and laughter already plain to hear from the large sitting room that occupied the entire ground floor, and turned back for one last look at Erebor.  
  
The sun's last rays were fading now in the West, colouring the slopes of the mountain a dark red.   
  
'Red,' Celylith thought, a strong feeling of dread sweeping through his body. 'Red like blood. Red like ... death.'  
  
After a moment he shook his head and followed his travelling companions inside, deciding that he had a really, really bad feeling about all this.  
  
  
  
  
  
**TBC...  
  
  
  
  
  
** _mellonamin - my friend  
dúnadan - 'Man of the West', ranger  
  
  
  
  
  
_**Yes. *nods* Even more foreshadowing, I know. I love it, sorry about that... *g* Well, so, the much anticipated chapter 18 draws ever nearer! *Nili's alter ego rubs her hands gleefully* Uhm, just ignore her, will you? She IS mad, after all... Okay, in the next chapter we see the revenge Aragorn exacts on Legolas for drugging him, they meet King Bard and much more! Reviews might encourage me to write more despite the wonderful weather we're having right now, so it's in your best interests! Review? Pretty please??  
  
  
  
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**Additional A/N:  
  
TrinityTheSheDevil - **Ha, I knew it was that movie! My sister will be delighted since she loves horses _and_ Viggo Mortensen, perfect... As I said, I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. Geran is such a nice littel boy... *pats his head* Oh, a Viggo-Estel pic? Will you send it to me? I would very much like to see how you picture Estel...   
**Mouse** - Well, let's just say that that idiot WILL probably be able to hunt elves - if he gets them is another matter though... *nods* 'The Hulk' was stupid, wasn't it? I mean, really, they call THAT a movie? *shakes head* Hollywood... And PoTC is going out here in September as well, on the 4th I think. BUT I will be able to see it in England, yay, 'cause there it starts on the 8th of August... *g*   
**Arwen-Evenstar** - *hands on hips* That was not a cliffy! Really, you people and your ideas of cliffies... *mumbles under her breath* I'll show you what a REAL cliffy's like... Whatever. Great you liked the Estel dream bit, he's a poor boy, isn't he? *huggles Estel* Poor baby...  
**CrazyLOTRfan** - Well, I don't know if Elrond will find out. Perhaps. After story number 3, that would be... I'll think of something. LOL, you have Eru living under your bed, and the rest of the Valar in your closet? Well, that's definitely something new... *hangs head* I am really, really sorry about the cliffies, and I don't knw how to say it, but ... but ... there won't be _real_ cliffies until ... until ... *whispers* chapter 18. So sorry! *runs off* Well, perhaps there's one in chapter 17, but I don't really think so. I am really sorry, I just needed some time to get everything ready for more action. Sorry ... will you forgive me? Please?  
**Shadow Warrior** - *nods* I am glad too! I would have gone insane because of those horrible dreams a long time before now! Well, let's say that he will have ... other ... problems than his nightmares in the near future, shall we? *evil giggle* Oh yesss, preciousss, he will... Thanks for all your reviews!  
**Strider's Girl - **Great! *blushing* Great you like it so much! *huggles her* And I like you because you like it! *clears throat* Did I really just write that? Ah well, just ignore that, will you? I have spent most of the day getting sunburnt, my brain must have been damaged... *g*  
**Leggylover03** - Oh, well ... what can I say? Thanks! Great you like it so much! As I said, I don't know yet when the sequel to this will come out, but I very much doubt it will be before October! *huggles her* Thanks for the reviews!  
**Halo** - Uhm, yes ... *pats her back* I haven't decided yet, okay? He has a rather good chance of survival... *innocent look at screaming Halo* I did never say that Geran would hunt and Celylith and kill him, did I? *tries to dislodge Halo* As I said, he might live after all...  
**Alilacia** - Yeah, I like 'Bring me to life' too, although I usually don't listen to Evanescence much... *g* Yeah, I just reread the passages of the Hobbit that were relevant for this fic, and then I came across cram. It was too good not to include... *g* Yeah, I don't think that dwarves make very good prey either. But then again, neither do elves... *evil grin* But he's welcome to try... LOL, Celylith, the named-yet-expendible-character? Well, I never said that he _would_ die, did I? I mean, yes, he might, but if he's lucky he might get away with a bit of torture or a bad injury. I have just downloaded the trailer for PotC, and it really looks nice! Johnny Depp is SO COOL! I will watch it when I'm in England, I guess...  
**Alex Mistress Squirrel** - Yes, okay, I DO admit that, but that's not really hard either, is it? And you just might be right about the action in future chapters.... Poor, poor elfsies and ranger... *evil grin* Hope this was soon enough? *g*  
**Cestari** - Yes, you could say that, evil, evil men... But Donyc and friends are dead now, so that's it. And Adruran doesn't really hate elves, he just knows that they will most likely cause trouble. He's not a racist, though - he's too professional for that. I don't know yet what to do with him at all. *shrugs* We'll see. Is Celylith insane? Why, yes of course! What kinf of question is _that_?  
**Imbefaniel** - Well, Adruran doesn't really hate elves. He just knows that they always cause trouble, and he really doesn't want to return to his lord in disgrace, whihc I can really understand, btw. *blinks* I am sorry, but I don't get the connection between the rubber castle and elves. Is there one? Your mother likes Rammstein? I abnsolutely despise them! Really, they're just... *shudders*  
**Firniswin** - *g* Oh, that sounded kinda wrong, did you know that? 'Aragorn and Legolas have little moments' ... *giggles* No, don't worry, I know what you mean... Lots of people want to hug them, actually - they are sweet and adorable too, that might be it... *g*  
**Aratfeniel** - *nods* Mine too. I've had several until now (Star Wars, Stargate, The Pretender, Highlander...), but I get obsessed rather quickly. It's just horrible. *blushes* Great you like it so much! Being in your Top 5, that's great! Yeah, rub in it, I know that I can't go and watch PotC anytime soon. I think I will watch in when I'm in England, since it will be coming out in September here! Horrible, evil people! And there won't be that uch action, I'm afraid, not in the next two or so chapters. Sorry, I need to prepare everything for round two, and that takes some time...  
**Critternut - ***g* Yeah, I guess they will need the rest a little later on. It's just a coincidence really, it has nothing to do with my evil nature or something... *g* And Geran, well ... I'm not telling! You will have to wait, I'm afraid... Well, I am looking forward to PotC too, but more because of Johnny Depp - he is so cool! And he is a really great actor... *sighs*  
**Tapetum Lucidum** - *huggles* You're back! Yay! I missed you! *g* You might be right though, Celylith will probably rather soon wish that he had obeyed Legolas' command and had returned to Mirkwood - poor elfsies... Oh, if you like several sets of adversaries, you're right here. I lost count at six... And it's more like Geran who has the obsession with elves. Adruran just doesn't like anyone who could disturb his plans, and elves in Dale would do just that. *huggles again* Thanks for the review!  
**Seveawen** - Uhm, me? *innocent, wide-eyed look* I will do nothing to them, absolutely nothing ... you know me, I am the most harmless person in the world... *g* Well, yes, right now I am writing chapter 19 actually, but I always try to be a few chapters ahead, especially because I don't know how much time I'll have to write in the near future. Great I'm invited! Yay me! Thanks! Adruran and Co. are staying near Dale - is that confusing? Why? And Erebor is right next to Dale, of course there are dwarves... *g*  
**Nilmandra** - Oh! Thanks! I'm very glad you liked the nightmares bit, Estel's life really is NOT easy, huh? Well, and me and doing something 'drastic' to Celylith... Would you like to define 'drastic'? I mean, there are several ways to interpret that term... *evil grin* Thanks for reviewing!  
**XsilicaX** - Well , I guess Estel will be fine now, mostly. Perhaps a few more dreams now and then, but I guess talking about it really helped. *shrugs* I'm no psychiatrist, so I'm guessing here... *g* *imagines Cathy in full mother hen mode* Uh-oh, SCARY mental image, very scary... 'I would have to touch him to unwrap them and examine his wounds...' LOL, you're insane! That's just evil, taking advantage of his helpless state... *g* And yes, I will write the Glor bit, in about four to five months, I guess. *shrugs* Sorry, but it would be at the end of the next story, so... *g*  
**NaughtyNat** - LOL, Aragorn 'slamming the tent door'? I can really picture that, that's scary... *g* ROTFL, Aragorn as a rebellious teenager? Oh, that is just soooo good... *g* You're right, it WOULD be very cute - and hilarious, of course... *g*  
**Coreinha** - *nods slowly* Oh, suuuuuure, Cor, he _likes_ it in your pocket, yeah, I see what you mean... And you really think he is safe there? Ha, I don't think so, mister! I can get you anywhere! Mhahahahaha! Oh, and I'm really not sure if Zam's only got a clone, you know, she grabbed him at the end of the last story before anyone else decided that he was funny and cute and whatnot... *g* So she just MIGHT have the original. Glad you like the bold letters! *huggles back* And I _did_ review, Jeez, you guys are persistent! *g*  
**Amelie - **Uhm, Celylith and I are having ... a ... a ... a tea party in chapter 18. That's it, right. A tea party. Nothing serious... *evil grin* Then again, maybe not? And as I said: No kidnapping my characters! *grabs Legolas and stuffs him back into the story* I NEED them! How am I supposed to write if you guys insist on kidnapping my characters? Write more into my story? What do you mean? More of what? Or did you mean more _of _ my story? *looks confused* Well, great you like it! Thanks for the review!  
**Firnsarnien - **Yeah, you may have Mithrandir, but _I_ have his staff! Without his staff he can't do anything! *brandishes staff* Even better ... *inject dramatical pause here* ... I have his pointy hat as well! Mhahahahaha! *runs off giggling madly* Uhm, well ... *looks down at feet* I am not wearing any shoes since it's 30 degrees Celsius here - but okay, if you want to kiss them, fine... And I'll think about not killing him, that's all I can promise... *evil grin*  
**Nikara** - *shakes head* No, I wouldn't describe them as 'fun' either.... But you're right, it was about time he finally talked about them, stubborn human that he is! *shakes head again* Really....  
**Alisha** - LOL, yes, that would be most likely the outcome if he ever talked about the little voices in his head, you're right! And I am _trying_ to get Celylith's DNA, but that elf is bloody fast! And he keeps climbing trees, and just when I get to the top branches as well, he giggles madly and jumps onto the next one! It's really annoying! I think I will be able to hand out clones at the end of the fic, no sooner, sorry... *g* Well, yes, Legolas _is_ rather old and wise, isn't he? I mean, he doesn't ACT that way often, but technically, he is wise. Technically... *g* Wow, you'd fight them for 2 or 3 seconds? I wouldn't at all, I'm not mad, after all...  
**TrustingFriendship** - You! *huggles* I missed you! *huggles harder* I had thought you didn't like it and and and... *takes deep breath* Sorry about that. Glad you're back though. You're lucky though, because I think that there won't be any 'bad' or 'evil' cliffies for a few more chapters. Well, I have to disappoint you, I'm afraid. Elrond and the twins won't make an appearance in this story, and even if they'd find out about what's going on, they would have problems getting there at all, since it's winter now and the passes are closed. *shrugs* Sorry. And yes, I am indeed planning another story after this one!  
**ManuKu** - *nickt* In der Tat, ihr beiden seit immer zu spaet dran. Schaemt euch! *g* Und ich gebe dir Recht, anatomisch hat Aragorn im Vergleich zu uns Frauen einige Defizite - nicht dass wir und beschweren wuerden... *g* Tja, um ehrlich zu sein, glaube ich auch nicht, dass Thranduil sehr begeistert von den Nachrichten sein wird, armer Anardir. Aber manchmal ist es eben gut, Prinz zu sein! *fieses Grinsen* Und du hast recht: Mit Legolas' Hilfe kann bei Seobryn eigentlich nichts mehr schiefgehen! Es sei denn, er wird wieder mal rot und stottert... Schoen, dass dir dir Traumszene gefallen hat! Und es stimmt: Legolas ist manchmal zum Knuddeln!!  
**Fliewatuet** - *blushes* Awww, thanks! Great you liked that scene! And you are right: Adruran is definitely _not amused_. But then again, he is right, elves cause nothing but trouble, after all... I don't know about the trophies yet, you know, I _really_ want to kill Celylith, after all - but I fear that I wouldn't live long if I really did, so I'm not entirely sure what to do. *shrugs* We'll see.  
**Elenora** - Geran/elf hunt? *innocent expression* Nooooooooooo.... Whatever gave you that idea? You know me, I would _never_ do such a thing... *g* Oh, thank you! *huggles her* Somebody who understands that you sometimes need a little bit of time to prepare! I mean, I need to make you understand why everything is happening, right? *nods vigorously* Of course I'm right. *g* Thanks again!  
**Sirithiliel** - Well, thank you! Glad you like it! Thanks a lot for the review!  
**Marbienl** - Oh, Sunday was your birthday! *shakes her hand* Happy belated Birthday! I hope you had a lot of fun! *pats Misien* Yes, I like her too. She is cool, and funny. To be honest I really don't think that she will ever come to Mirkwood, but still. *shakes fist* I did never sign that! That must have been my alter ego! I didn't know about it, that makes it null and void! I refuse to acknowledge that contract, no matter if you have horns or not! LOL, well, I would not say that it's all the elves' fault, but... Well, I guess the elves are far wiser and older, but I wouldn't view them as surrogate parents. Perhaps older brothers, but I'd stop right there, if you ask me... *g* And yes, Estel kinda became thinner, but I never really mentioned it. You do get that when you don't sleep enough, and with his injuries it would have been more prominent anyway. LOL at Donyc's clone! I'm sure Legolas would LOVE that... Keep that spider away from my villains, please! I can't have it scare them! And my alter ego needs a little break too, so please... And the sunburn: It's winter right now? Perhaps later... Thanks a lot for the huge review!  
**TigerLily713 - ***grimaces* I didn't like the steam bit either - but then again, I was never very good at writing torture... And you're right, of course. Celylith would never have eaten someone as disgusting as 'the Fox'... *g* Wow! You have caught up! That was kinda like a marathon, wasn't it? Congratulations! And thanks once again for all the reviews!  
**Eva - **Uhm, well, Donyc's dead. Thankfully, he was a rather nasty person too, and I had lots of fun killing him, too. You have wargs too? I have Fred sr., The Insane One gave him to me... He's not very ferocious, but a warg nonetheless. Well, and you're right, I really don't think that a guard contingent is going to save them. You know, that kinda happened last story, and I couldn't use it twice. *shakes head* No way.   
**Cyd** - I just divided you, hope that's okay? Or are you the same person, you know, like Dr. Jekyll and Mr Hyde? *g* No, probably not... And Eva _printed_ it for you? She did? The whole story? Wow, your printer is more resilient than mine, then... *g* It's great you like it too though! LOL, don't harm Estel unless I reall, really have to? Well, I think I REALLY have to. My alter ego demands it, and who am I to argue with myself?  
**LadySandrilene** - Oh, I read Tamora Pierce too when I was a child ... but only the Alanna-stories, sorry, I really don't know what they're called in English. I liked them quite a lot! Yeah, see, I didn't choose a LOTR name at all! Nili is a very old nickname my brother gave me when I was about 14 or something. You're right. *huggles Aragorn too* My poor baby ranger! Uhm, okay, is this soon enough! I was writing, see?  
**Lina** - *huggles Lina* Don't worry! I'm not mad or anything, I just missed your usual craziness, that's all... So your computer broke? I don't know if it really was Zam's fault, computers do that all the time without apparent reason... *g* LOL, so YOU sent Rashwe to Arda? Well, that _does_ indeed explain a lot! *g* Cram as surrogate clay pigeons? That's something new, that's for sure... *g* Uhm, the dreams? Premonitions? No, not really, just your usual nightmares, no premonitions this time... I KNEW it! I really KNEW you would say that! In fact, I giggles when I wrote it _because_ I knew that! You two are quite predictable sometimes... Well, thank you for reviewing again, I really missed you! *huggles again*  
**Stacee Phelps** - *sighs tiredly* That was no cliffy. This one isn't a cliffy either. Nor is chapter 16. Well, okay, chapter 17 might be a little one, and even _I_ admit that chapter 18 IS a cliffy... Okay? *g* LOL, so you're a bit impatient? And you have 'ways of making me post'? Well, I DO want to see that! So? What are you going to do? Huh?  
**Maranwe** - LOL, 'they walk heedlessly into the net of danger which closes ever closer around them'? You know, that is a very good description! That's exactly what they're doing - stupid humans! Well, I guess Legolas' voice is either Aragorn or his father, or a combination of both, which is a _really_ scary thought... *g* I know what you mean, I read HP I-IV in record time too. They're addictive! *grins broadly* Glad you like the bold! It looks much nicer too! *g* Well, I am trying to get the chapters to about 13 pages each but fail miserably. They just don't shut up! *shakes fist* Horrible! *huggles again* Thanks for the review!  
**Salara** - Na ja, das 'Tempo' ist alle vier Tage! Das ist doch nun weiss Gott nich SO schnell, oder? Eine Doppelreview! Yay! *reibt Haende* LOL, vielleicht baue ich wirklich so eine Szene ein! Koennte auf jeden Fall interessant werden, wenn Elrond und Celylith sich ueber Estel-Betaeubungsmethoden austauschen... *g* Oh, und der Plot bunny war ueber den 'Fox', nicht ueber Vampire. Ich koennte ihn ja in #4 wieder auftauchen lassen... *grosse Augen* Tja, das mit dem LSL Potential hast du mir ja gerade vor Augen gefuehrt! Ich gebe zu, ich hazze nicht mal an 50 % dieser Sachen gedacht, aber Danke fuer die Ideen! *knuddelt Salara* Schoen, dass dir die Traumszene gefallen hat! Unser armer Lieblingsranger hat ja nun wirklich kein leichtes Leben! Danke fuer die lange, liebe Review!  
**Nilbrethiliel** - Oh Gott, sie ist wieder da! Rette sich, wer kann! Ahhhhh!! *rennt weg* Uhm, schoen, dich auch mal wieder zu sehen, wirklich! *g* Und, tja, mein Referat zeichnet sich durch weitgehende Nicht-Existenz aus. Leider. Aber das wird noch, hoffe ich! Und wie ich sagte ... *schnappt sich Celylith* ... nix hier! Hier werden keine Charaktere geklaut! Nu-uh! Zurueck! *g* Uhm, schoenes Gedicht. Ehrlich! Toll. Und so ... kunstvoll! Wirklich nett! Und ich gebe zu, Geran ist nicht unbedingt ein sehr netter Zeitgenosse - aber nuetzlich ist er allemal! *knuddelt Trish* Danke fuer's reviewen!  
**Aron** - *g* I agree. Aragorn is VERY lucky that Elrond isn't there. Or unlucky, we'll see... *evil grin* Geran will provide 'an awful lot of problems'? I guess you could say that, yes... And I'm not telling! Sorry, but if I told you what would happen to Celylith (or 'who' would happen to him *g*) I would ruin the whole thing! So you'll have to wait a bit, sorry.... You're going away again? I hope you have a lot of fun! Thanks a lot for your reviews!  
  
***nods* Bold ist better, and it looks a lot nicer too. A huge Thank You to all my wonderful reviewers! Come on, group hug! *huggles them***  
  
  



	16. Ill Tidings

**Disclaimer: **For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.  
  
  
**A/N:  
  
*gives FF.net look of deep, heartfelt disgust* Sometimes I wonder if this website's only aim is to drive us all mad. It would explain a lot, actually... Three days is a bloody long time to crash! *grim expression* We hatessss it, we doesss, my ssssweet....  
  
Well, I hope you forgive me for posting a day later, but I really am quite busy right now. As I mentioned before, I will leave in a week, I have to get all the material I need for a paper I have to hand in in a month _and_ I'm moving out of my flat in five days. *sighs tiredly* I really missed moving, everybody should do it at least twice a year...**   
**That means that right now we enter the phase of not-posting-so-regularly, I'm truly sorry. Don't worry, I will not let you wait for too long, but I don't think that I can update quicker than every five or six days. Make that six, I think... Plus, I do not know when I will be able to post in England, but we will cross that bridge** **when we come to it... *g*  
  
Oh, and to answer your other questions: A. No, I was not on an illegal drug while writing the last chapter, and neither was I on a sugar high. I was just having a ... good day, I guess. *g* And B. I don't know yet how long the story's going to be. Right now I would carefully say about 25 chapters, could be more, could be less though. I'll be able to tell you in a few weeks... *g*  
  
  
Okay**, **so enough of that, here is chapter 16, and** **yes, Aragorn is exacting his revenge on his poor, helpless elven friend for drugging him all the time in Lake-town. Plus, they meet the king of Dale, find out just why Dale and Erebor are about to make war on each other and get even deeper into trouble without even knowing it. *sighs* But they'll find out, trust me on this...  
  
  
Enjoy and review, please!  
  
  
  
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Chapter 16  
  
  
The next morning dawned anything but bright and beautiful. In fact, Legolas thought somewhat grumpily from his spot on the windowsill, it was a rather dreary day. The sky was grey and covered with low-hanging clouds that looked as if they were just waiting for the perfect opportunity to shower the ground with thick snowflakes.   
  
'And said opportunity,' he thought, brushing a wayward strand of blonde hair out of his eyes, 'Will be the exact moment we leave this building.'  
  
Of course it would be, when had it ever been any different?   
  
The elven prince sighed and hopped down from his seat, giving the street below him a last glance. They had retired rather early yesterday evening, since Aragorn had been obviously tired – even though he protested loudly that he wasn't, of course – and Celylith in a rarely subdued mood.  
  
Legolas started rummaging through his pack, frowning slightly. Celylith had really been rather quiet the whole evening, and he was beginning to get worried. His friend was one of the most cheerful persons he knew, and if he was in a dark mood it was usually a bad sign. It either meant that he was having a problem he could not solve on his own, or that he was having one of his feelings, a feeling of the kind that most elves had at one point or another during their lives.  
  
While few elves were gifted with Fore-sight like Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel, most of them got "feelings" once in a while, which was not surprising considering how close to nature the firstborn were. Elves unconsciously picked up things that nature whispered to them so subtly that not even they could hear it, and these warnings resulted in the aforementioned feelings.  
  
Legolas had them quite often, and they had saved his life on more than one occasion. As far as he knew, Celylith had experienced them not nearly as often, but when he did, they were always correct.  
  
The fair haired elf slowly shook his head, resolving to ask Celylith what was wrong with him later this morning. If he had the feeling that there was danger coming, they would be well-advised to listen to him.  
  
Putting down the pack, Legolas frowned again. He could have sworn that his brush was somewhere in here; he hadn't used it yesterday evening, had he? He brushed yet another strand of his hair back that was falling in his face, mocking him for all that he knew. He hadn't slept well tonight, and at one point he had even woken up, having almost been able to swear that there was someone in his room. Of course there hadn't been, and so he had tried to go back to sleep, without much success however.  
  
Now it was finally morning, and he decided that it was late enough to go and wake Aragorn. While he was very glad to see that his human friend was finally sleeping enough, his body obviously trying to catch up with as much rest as possible, they needed to get a move on if they wanted to find out anything today.  
  
They had spent an hour in the tavern yesterday evening, and what they had heard had been anything but reassuring. The men and women had talked about the dwarves as if war was already upon them, and while he agreed with some of the terms that the humans had used to describe the smaller beings that lived in the Lonely Mountain, the last thing he wanted was a war between Dale and Erebor. But things really had sounded rather dire, and he was beginning to agree with Aragorn. If nothing was done, this situation would get out of hand, quicker than anyone would have anticipated, and this part of Wilderland would descend into war, chaos and bloodshed.  
  
He shrugged, deciding to talk to his companions about that, and finally spied his brush on a chest of drawers next to the door of his little room. Odd, Legolas thought as he walked over to the piece of furniture, he could have sworn he hadn't used it yesterday…  
  
He grabbed the brush and sat back down on his bed, quickly changing into another shirt and starting to comb his slightly tangled hair. It would probably best if they went to see King Bard sometime today, he decided, and he had even met the man when he had visited Mirkwood some years prior. He should be able to tell them what was going on here, and together they should be able to put a stop to these rather alarming events.  
  
Legolas noticed that it was becoming harder and harder to move the brush through his hair, and he raised an eyebrow in confusion. His hair couldn't have got this tangled, could it? His hair rarely was this uncooperative, only when he somehow managed to drench it in spider blood and he had certainly killed no spiders yesterday…  
  
A few second later, both of his eyebrows climbed up his forehead as he grabbed the handle of the brush with both hands, vainly trying to move it an inch through his thick tresses or remove it from the hair altogether. With something akin to panic he realised that he wasn't able to do either; the brush firmly stuck to his hair.  
  
'How is that possible?' Legolas thought shocked, tugging at the brush with growing urgency.   
  
Then, when he had calmed down a little, he could smell something, something he hadn't smelled for a long time, but when he had last, it had been in … Rivendell.  
  
The elven prince's eyes darkened and he shot to his feet, looking rather ridiculous with a brush glued to the side of his head.  
  
"Aragorn!"  
  
The yell could probably have been heard at the foot of the Lonely Mountain, but right now, Legolas didn't care. That impertinent, presumptuous little human, he thought as he stormed into the direction of the door, how dare he! This was Estel's revenge for the sleeping potions, it just had to be! He wasn't only an impertinent, presumptuous little human, soon he would be a dead, impertinent, presumptuous little human…  
  
He flung the door open, turning to the right and rushing into the direction of the young ranger's door.  
  
"Aragorn! _Gwannathach as sen, dúnadan!_"   
  
  
  
  
"He's awake," Celylith commented, rather dryly, and, Aragorn thought, equally unnecessarily. The whole inn had been able to hear the elven prince's murderous shout.  
  
"Really?" he asked sarcastically. "What was that he yelled?"  
  
"I think," Celylith supplied helpfully, a smug grin on his face, "That it sounded rather like _'Gwannathach as sen, dúnadan'_."  
  
Aragorn gave him a equally smug look.  
"Why would he say that?"  
  
Celylith arched a silver eyebrow at the far too innocently looking man. He had already been amazingly compliant when he had changed his bandages yesterday evening, and hadn't even moaned or protested when he had told him that he would need to keep the chest bandaged for another few days. That had been the exact moment he had got suspicious, and when he had looked at the young ranger this morning who had greeted him in a friendly, innocent tone of voice, he knew that he had done something to Legolas.  
  
'Ah well,' he thought with a mental shrug, 'Rather him than me.'  
  
Right then Legolas appeared at the bottom of the staircase, and the silver haired elf looked up, his eyes growing wide when he took in his friend's appearance. Suddenly, he felt the almost irresistible urge to roar with laughter, and only the deadly glare Legolas shot him prevented such an action. Apart from that he was very glad no other customers or guests were here yet, and he wished for nothing more than have a painter at hand who could immortalise this particular sight.  
  
And a rare sight it was too, he decided, keeping his face as neutral and emotionless as possible. His prince slowly came closer, glad in a pair of dark breeches and a light green shirt, already with his boots on. He looked rather normal, actually … well, apart from the brush that stuck to the side of his head. Celylith cocked his head to the side in confusion. The brush looked as if Legolas had been brushing his hair until it got stuck … or glued to the hair.  
  
The silver haired elf closed his eyes, praying to the Valar for composure. This was priceless, this was wonderful… Oh, Aragorn was dead, Legolas would simply kill him…  
  
"Five seconds," Legolas said in a low, very, very dangerous tone of voice, eyes fixed on the friendly smiling ranger. "You have five seconds to explain this. After that I am afraid I will have to kill you."  
  
Aragorn grinned and raised a dark eyebrow.  
"Good morning, my friend. What happened to your hair?"  
  
From Celylith's point of view, this ranked among the ten stupidest things the man could have said. Perhaps it even was the stupidest, he wasn't quite sure about that yet.  
  
Legolas eyes seemed to literally light up.  
"Oh," he said, slowly coming closer, "I thought you might be able to explain that."  
  
"Me?" Aragorn replied innocently, inconspicuously looking for escape routes, "Why should I know what happened … is that your _brush_?"  
  
'I stand corrected,' Celylith thought with an inward snicker. '_That_ was the stupidest thing he could have said.'   
  
"No!" Legolas snapped, rounding the table with one lunge, "It is baby eagle pretending to be my brush! What do you think it is? You used your brothers' special brand of home-made glue, don't deny it! I recognise the smell!"  
  
"Ah, come now, calm down, Legolas," the young ranger said, trying to appease the furious elf that was slowly advancing on him. "It is not really my brothers' glue, I improved it a bit."  
  
"Did you?" Legolas was very close to yelling now. "Did you???"  
  
Aragorn recognised the signs of an approaching mental breakdown, or perhaps a killing spree, and slowly edged backwards on the bench he was occupying.  
  
"It is not permanent," he said quickly, before Legolas could start doing the painful things to him that the elf's eyes promised him.  
  
That was the first clever thing the young human had said today, Celylith decided, watching as Legolas' face slowly reassumed a more or less normal colour.  
  
"In fact," Aragorn added, "You have approximately ten minutes to wash it out. Then it will harden and you would have to cut the brush out."  
  
The look the elven prince shot the man was filled with something that could only be described as passionate, all-consuming hatred. He seemed torn between the urge to dismember the man in front of him and the urge to remove that particular ridiculous-looking brush from his hair, and, after a few seconds, vanity or common sense won out.  
  
"This isn't over, ranger," he hissed at his human friend and disappeared quickly up the steps.  
  
Aragorn leaned back against the table, projecting the aura of a man who knew he had fulfilled his duty. Celylith looked at him, shaking his head slightly.  
  
"Remind me never to get you mad at me," he said quietly, something like fear in his eyes. "That was cruel. You spend far too much time with your brothers, Estel."  
  
"I do, don't I?" Aragorn asked, a wide grin on his face. "But you have to admit, the look on his face was priceless."  
  
The two looked at each other, and after a second they both started chuckling loudly, garnering curious looks of the innkeeper's wife who had just entered the lounge.  
  
"I … I would leave now if I were you," Celylith gasped, fighting another wave of giggles. "He will … Valar, he will _kill _you, Strider!"  
  
"I know," Aragorn chuckled, fighting for composure, "I know. But, Elbereth, it was worth it."  
  
He got to his feet, still laughing lightly.   
"I will have a look at our horses," he told his elven companion. "I'll see if I can find some provisions that do not include cram and will see if I can find out where the king's residence is. Legolas will surely want to pay him a visit. Once he removes that brush that is, of course."  
  
The young ranger quickly walked out of the door, politely wishing the innkeeper's wife a good morning. Celylith looked after him and asked himself just why he had been so bent on coming with these two. The only danger they were in was apparently killing each other, and in his opinion that would occur rather sooner than later.  
  
  
  
  
Two hours and a lot of mindless wandering around the town later, Aragorn carefully opened the door that led to the ground floor of the inn and silently slipped inside. There were already a few customers here, mostly merchants who had arrived early with their merchandise via the River Running.   
  
In fact, Aragorn, Legolas and Celylith had considered using the waterway as well, but the thought of what the horses would say to a journey of at least three days they would have to spend on a cramped barge had quickly dissuaded them from using this means of transportation.  
  
Aragorn shuddered when he imagined what Rashwe would have done. That demon-horse would probably have sunken the boat and watched with the greatest of pleasures how they all drowned, he decided quickly. No, that way would have been less straining than riding through inhospitable wastelands – no, they weren't wastelands anymore, not since Smaug's death, but in his opinion they were still anything but homely – but he would not have wanted to see Legolas' horse on a small barge. He was beginning to suspect that his brothers had been right about this animal, and while he had been taught to at least respect every living creature, he found it very hard with this one.  
  
He was still contemplating this when suddenly someone stepped in front of him, barring his way, and only his elven-trained reflexes saved him from a graceless collision. The young ranger looked up, already suspecting whom he would see, and really, in front of him stood his elven friend, looking at him with an unreadable expression.  
  
Aragorn's eyes quickly travelled up to Legolas' head, and found that his friend's hair was perhaps still a little damp and extremely shiny – which was probably because Legolas had washed it about thirty times in an attempt to get rid of the last remnants of the glue – but all in all absolutely brush-free.  
  
The fair haired elf just kept staring at him, and Aragorn was beginning to wonder if he was attempting to bore holes into his forehead when he finally narrowed his eyes and spoke up.  
"That was evil, Aragorn."  
  
The young man rolled his eyes.  
"Yes, and?"  
  
Legolas glared at his human friend.  
"You needed the rest, you know that as well as I do! It would be well within my rights to severely harm you for this."  
  
Aragorn chuckled merrily, not at all intimidated by his friend's dark stare.  
"But you won't, and that is something _you _know as well as I do. I am still not fully healed, and you know that. Besides…"  
  
"That is pathetic, human, hiding behind your injury like this…"  
  
"…as I said, elf, besides, I didn't do it for you making me drink those horrible potions."  
  
"You didn't?" Legolas asked, appearing honestly surprised.  
  
"No," Aragorn shook his head, noting with satisfaction that it didn't hurt him anymore to do so. "No, I didn't. I did it because you _enjoyed _making me drink them."  
  
Legolas shook his head a little too quickly.  
"I didn't! That is ridiculous!"  
  
The young ranger only snorted, looking at the elven prince with an incredulously lifted eyebrow.  
"Is it now? Don't try to deny it, _mellonamin_, you relished it!"  
  
"No," Legolas said haughtily, but a smile was lurking in the depths of his silver-blue eyes. "You overestimate your importance, human."  
  
"Do I?" Aragorn grinned cheekily at the elf, "Well, elf, then I am sure you can explain to me why…"  
  
"He will do nothing of that sort, or we will still be here in a few hours until you two have had enough of your bickering," Celylith's voice interrupted him, and the two of them turned to face the silver-haired elf who had soundlessly stepped closer.  
  
"We are not bickering," Legolas and Aragorn said simultaneously, and Legolas added, "We are merely trying to … to…"  
  
"…have a decent discussion, that's all," Aragorn quickly finished his elven friend's sentence.  
  
Celylith snorted, for Aragorn yet another proof that his father's habits were slowly being adopted by other elves as well, a phenomenon that both astonished and scared the young ranger.   
"A discussion, right."  
  
The young man wisely decided to use this opportunity to change the subject, and he looked expectantly at the two elves.  
"Are you ready to leave? Where do you want to go first? Directly to the king or somewhere else?"  
  
Legolas looked sharply at the ranger, mentally resolving to do something dreadful to his friend for this little incident in the near future. As soon as he was completely well again, to be precise. Perhaps tie him to a tree and leave him to a pack of wargs? Then he would take a ship to the Undying Lands, of course, before the twins found out about it…  
  
"I think first we should go and have a look around," he said, resolving to think about appropriate revenge later. "Hear what the people are saying; see if we are perhaps overreacting."  
  
"I don't think so," Celylith said seriously as they were making their way into the direction of the door, "There is danger coming, and you feel it as well as I do."  
  
"Aye," Legolas sighed softly as they stepped out of the inn, "Aye, I do, and the longer we are here the stronger that feeling becomes."  
  
Aragorn looked at the two solemn elves next to him. He was having that feeling as well, and if that was the case for Legolas and Celylith too, then it was a very bad sign.  
  
"Well," he said with forced cheerfulness, "That means that we're on the right track, doesn't it?  
  
Legolas stopped shortly and gave the man a long look.  
"That is the kind of attitude that will get you killed very quickly."  
  
"Is it?" The young ranger asked, eyes twinkling evilly. "If you say so, then it must be correct. Leafie."  
  
Legolas resisted the sudden very powerful urge to either hit his head against something solid or strangle his cheekily grinning friend.  
"What have I told you about using that name?"  
  
"Uhm, I don't know," Aragorn said innocently as they took up their walk once more. "I cannot remember. Do you know what he said, Celylith?"  
  
The silver haired elf hastily raised both his hands in a gesture meant to appease his companions and to express his unwillingness to get involved in their bickering.  
"No, I don't, Strider. In fact, I am sure that I was not present when you were discussing that topic."  
  
Legolas glared at his traitorous friend.  
"You were! You were riding next to him!"  
  
"You must be mistaken, my lord," Celylith said in a firm voice. "I was nowhere near you two. I have seen nothing, heard nothing and know nothing. _Nothing_. I will not get involved in this."  
  
"Coward," Aragorn muttered under his breath as they entered the main market square.  
  
"No, ranger," Celylith retorted testily. "Sane person."  
  
Legolas only grinned at his two companions, asking himself not for the first time how he had managed to find two people in all of Arda that were equally insane. It hadn't been easy, he decided with an inward smile as they moved over the market place, stopping at several market stands to talk to the vendors, but now, after more than two thousand years, he had managed to find two beings of which one was just as crazy as the other. A great feat indeed.  
  
After some time they decided to leave the market and make their way to King Bard's residence. Aragorn had found out earlier that the King lived in a large, palace-like house in the very centre of the city, even though the building could certainly not be compared to Mirkwood's Halls or even the Last Homely House of the young ranger's elven father.  
  
What they had found out was not too good either, Legolas thought as they were slowly walking up a broad alley that shone white with freshly fallen snow. There hadn't been a large group of men here for some time, and that meant that both Gwemyr's group and the mysterious third group were clever enough to camp outside the city walls. Nobody had noticed anything out of the ordinary as all men and women they had questioned stated consistently, apart from the trouble with the dwarves, of course.  
  
And this was exactly what they needed to talk to Bard about, the elven prince thought with a mental headshake of mild disgust. While he could understand perfectly well that the Men of Dale were annoyed with the dwarves' behaviour – what kind of normal person wouldn't be? – he really did not want to return home to tell his father that Dale and Erebor had gone to war.  
  
They slowly ascended a small hill, and finally reached the gates of the king's residence which were open, but guarded by a small contingent of soldiers that looked a little alerter than Legolas would have expected – after all, guard duty was one of the most bring things in existence. Behind the men, the three young beings could see a large, white stone building that looked to Legolas' eyes as if it had been at least partly been constructed with the help of dwarven masons. Its wings were still in the process of being put up.  
  
"Halt!" the man who was obviously captain of the guard called, and Legolas suppressed the distinct feeling of déjà vu. He just hoped that this man was not as stupid as the one at the city walls, but then again, that was something he thought highly improbable.  
  
The man surveyed their appearance closely, doing a slight double-take when his eyes wandered over the two elves.  
"Who are you and what do you want?"  
  
Legolas was just about to answer that the courtesy was somewhat lacking in this town of late, but once again Aragorn quickly spoke up and prevented his elven friends from saying anything unwise. That human should become a diplomat, the fair haired elf thought somewhat grumpily.  
  
"We are here to see the king," Aragorn said politely but firmly. "These are two elves from King Thranduil's Halls, and I am Strider, a Ranger of the North."  
  
The other man eyed Aragorn with much more interest than the elves. While elven visitors from Mirkwood were a rather common sight here it had been quite some time since he had last seen a ranger this far East. There were not many of their kind left, and it was a rare occurrence indeed to see one on this side of the Misty Mountains.  
  
"A ranger, eh?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Well, ranger, I am sorry, but you will have to come back later. The king is a very busy man and you cannot just come here expecting to see him just like that. He doesn't have time to speak to anyone who wishes to tell him something."  
  
Legolas' eyes darkened somewhat, and while he was still ignoring Aragorn's pleading gaze and opening his mouth for a scathing reply, Celylith had already stepped forwards, dark blue eyes flashing in his fair face.  
  
"Anyone?" he asked, piercing the man with a fierce stare. "Well, then you are lucky that we are not just 'anyone'! You would do well to show some respect, human, for this is…"  
  
Legolas' hand on his arm stopped him in mid-sentence, and he closed his mouth with a snap, still glaring darkly at the guard.   
  
"Don't," the elven prince said quietly in Elvish. "If you tell them now, the whole town will know in a matter of minutes."  
  
He looked at the captain that seemed to have shrunk somewhat in the face of Celylith's anger, and said in a quiet tone of voice,  
  
"Just tell your king that Legolas of Mirkwood is asking for a short amount of his time. He will not refuse this request, believe me."  
  
The captain looked at them with more than a little disbelief in his eyes, clearly not recognising the elf in front of him, which was not surprising at all, since Legolas hadn't been to this part of Rhovanion for more than a hundred years.   
"Very well, Master Elf. Please wait here, I will be back shortly."  
  
The three companions remained at the gates, Celylith glaring darkly at the guards for not showing his prince the due respect. Aragorn was hard-pressed to hide a broad grin when one guard after the other found a convenient excuse to get as far away from the irate silver haired elf as possible.  
  
"Impertinent humans," Celylith mumbled under his breath, sending a man that had dared look at him a scathing glare. "No respect at all, one really should…"  
  
At this point the captain returned, a lot quicker than one would have expected, and Aragorn and Legolas exchanged a highly amused look at Celylith's mumblings, even though Legolas' was mixed with no small amount of annoyance. He appreciated his elven friend's concern of course, but sometimes he really, really hated the position he had been born into.   
  
The guard looked at them with a mixture of suspicion and surprise.  
"Please come with me, sirs," he said with a small bow. "The king will see you immediately."  
  
He turned on his heel and walked up the broad alley that led to the front entrance of the white building, and the three of them followed, but not before Celylith had shot the men at the gate a last dark look. Soon they had reached the doors and entered the house and were led through several corridors with high ceilings and fine tapestries on the walls until they stopped in front of a large door.  
  
Legolas noted with surprise that they were not even asked to surrender their weapons as he had expected, but before he could dwell longer on that thought the captain had raised his hand and knocked at the door.  
  
After a muffled invitation from inside the captain opened the door and held it open for them, allowing them to step into a small room that was obviously a study of some sort. The room was warmly lit by a fire that flickered in the marble fireplace, and all the furniture, decorations and drapes spoke of wealth and power.  
  
A good part of the room was occupied by an enormous, carved wooden desk that was covered with what appeared to be several layers of paper that were piled on every single square inch of the desktop. Legolas had to suppress a grin. This looked not at all like his father's study; the King of Mirkwood would never have allowed his desk to descend into such a level of chaos.  
  
Behind that desk and flanked left and right by two men that looked very much like advisors to Legolas' in these matters very experienced eyes stood Bard, the King of Dale. He was a tall, black haired man, not young anymore, but still strong and proud in both his stance and mind.  
  
Right now, however, he looked rather as if to see them was the very last thing he had expected, and as if this occurrence was nothing he enjoyed overly much either.  
  
"Prince Legolas!" he called, smiling politely as the captain closed the door behind them. "Your Highness, there was no word that you would come and visit! Please excuse my guards' behaviour, I hope they haven't caused too great an inconvenience."  
  
"None at all, your Majesty," Legolas inclined his head to the king while Celylith and Aragorn gave the king a pair of identical bows. "This isn't a formal visit either, there was no way you could have known of our arrival."  
  
He quickly introduced his companions to the king, and soon they were all seated in comfortable armchairs in front of the fireplace while servants brought light refreshments. Bard seemed to have recovered somewhat from the shock of having to greet the crown prince of the most powerful kingdom between the Misty and the Ash Mountains, and he relaxed comfortably in his chair. He hadn't changed much, Legolas saw, except perhaps for more grey in his hair and a few more wrinkles on his face.  
  
"You will stay here, naturally," the King of Dale told them, gesticulating with a half-eaten pastry he held. "I will give a banquet in your honour, of course, and…"  
  
"To be honest, my lord, that is exactly what I was trying to avoid," Legolas told the man. "I was hoping to keep our presence here a secret, so to speak."  
  
"Why?" the man asked, wrinkling his brow. "Excuse my bluntness, your Highness, but why would you want to do that?"  
  
"There are some men that we would like to remain ignorant of our presence here, for the time being, that is," Legolas replied carefully, and explained shortly why they were here, only telling the king that they were following a group of Lake-men that were probably in a very real danger of being killed by another group of men.  
  
Bard knitted his brow and looked sharply at the elven prince.  
"And what, Prince Legolas, has given you the idea that they have come to my realm?"  
  
The elven prince smiled mirthlessly.  
"Let's just say that we know that they have. Beyond any doubt."  
  
The man shook his head.  
"As you can see, Dale is not yet the town it used to be 150 years ago. If such a group had been in the town, I would have heard about it."  
  
"We know that," Aragorn spoke up for the first time, looking at the older man with serious silver eyes. "There is another thing that is concerning us, however."  
  
"Is there? And what would that be?" Bard asked, a guarded expression stealing over his face.  
  
"The rumours that are spreading in your town," Legolas said quietly, studying the face of the king closely.  
  
"Rumours?" Bard asked. "What kind of rumours?"  
  
"The rumours that say that there will be war between Dale and Erebor," Legolas said with disarming bluntness.  
  
The King of Dale traded a quick look with his advisors.  
"They're rumours, that's all."  
  
Legolas merely looked at him, and Bard had to avert his eyes under the burning elven stare.  
  
"These are things that do not concern the wood-elves, if you'll forgive me saying so," he said quickly. "We are in your debt for helping us and our sister town after the battle, but this does not concern you or your father."  
  
"Wrong," the elven prince interrupted the man in a soft voice. "Forgive me, your Majesty, but there you are wrong. It does concern Mirkwood when its allies are beginning to make war on each other. There has been peace in this part of Middle-Earth, finally, after so many years of war, and I would very much like to know why we should descend into bloodshed once again."  
  
The human king looked into the dead-serious eyes of the blonde elf and lowered his head with a sigh.  
"I will not attack them, I cannot speak for Dáin though."  
  
"Please, my lord," Aragorn said, looking at the king intently. "Tell us. How has this started? I always though that there was peace between your realms."  
  
"Aye, ranger, there was," Bard nodded, ignoring his advisors that looked none too pleased that he really was answering their questions, Prince of Mirkwood or not. "Since the death of the dragon we've had peace, even though the beginning was somewhat … rocky, one could say."  
  
Aragorn had to smile, one could definitely say that.   
Bard and King Thranduil had besieged Thorin and his companions in the Lonely Mountain to make him hand over a part of the treasure that had been hidden there by the dragon Smaug. In the Battle of Five Armies that the Lake-men fought alongside the elves of Mirkwood, the eagles, Beorn and the dwarves Thorin Oakenshield had fallen, and Dáin, his cousin, had taken the titles of King under the Mountain and King of Durin's Folk.   
Yes, there might be peace now, but the beginnings had been more than rocky indeed, and dwarves were just like the elves a race that was not exactly known for forgiving quickly or easily.  
  
"Dáin's people helped us build much of the city, as you probably have already seen, and the trade has been good thus far," the king added, looking as if he didn't understand the recent events either.  
  
"What changed, your Majesty?" Aragorn asked, genuinely intrigued now.  
  
"I don't know!" Bard exclaimed with sudden vehemence, throwing his hands into the air. He quickly regained his composure though and continued, probably berating himself for his un-kingly behaviour, "In Eru's name, I don't know." He took a deep breath and stared into the dancing flames of the fire. "It started a few weeks ago. A mission arrived here led by Prince Thorin, King Dáin's son, and they requested to speak with me, which I didn't refuse, of course."  
  
The King of Dale stopped shortly, looking as if he forcefully suppressed a wince at the memory.  
  
"The talks went ill," he said shortly. "I do not take kindly to people who accuse me in my own house, and the prince was not in a very reasonable mood, I'm afraid."  
  
"What did he say?" Legolas asked, trying to find some interest for the words of a dwarf.  
  
"Many things," Bard grinned mirthlessly. "But the most interesting were that he accused us of having kidnapped two of his friends that were journeying North from Lake-town. They had been due to arrive at the mountain a few weeks prior, and never got there."  
  
He looked at the elves and the ranger.  
  
"That accusation is ridiculous, of course. Why would I want to kidnap the friends of Erebor's crown prince? In addition to that he also accused us of disturbing their miners, of trying to steal their secrets and lately of invading their realm without permission. Thorin said that there are people searching the mountainside, humans. And since we are the only human town or major settlement in a radius of more than fifty miles…"  
  
"He would be willing to go to war for this?" Legolas asked incredulously. Then again, he didn't even know why he was surprised. Dwarves were dwarves, and one could hardly expect reasonable behaviour from them.  
  
"No-one said anything about war, your Highness," Bard shook his head. "That is truly only a rumour. But things go ill between our two realms, I cannot deny that. And it is a situation that needs only a very small spark to ignite it, and what comes then I cannot tell."  
  
"So if your men are not the ones responsible for those actions, then who is?" Aragorn asked softly.  
  
The king clenched his jaw, dark eyes flashing, and suddenly they could all very well believe that he had been the one that had killed Smaug the dragon all these years ago.  
  
"I don't know, ranger, but I would give a lot to find out."  
  
  
  
  
"Dwarves!" Celylith mumbled under his breath as they were slowly walking back to their inn half an hour later. They had taken their leave of the now rather dispirited king, assured him that no, they really could not stay for dinner or overnight and promised to visit him again should they find out anything about the unknown human troublemakers.  
  
"There's not a bit of reason at all, not in one of them," Legolas agreed with his silver haired friend, shaking his head in mild disgust.  
  
"Now, my oh-so-perfect elven friends, dwarves are just as reasonable as everybody else," Aragorn reminded them rather sternly.  
  
Legolas and Celylith stopped and gave him an incredulous stare that could not have been stronger had he just stated a Silvan elf had fallen out of a tree.  
  
"If you say so, Aragorn," Legolas finally said, arching an eyebrow so high that it almost touched his hairline.  
  
"I do," the young ranger assured them, shaking his head in exasperation. Elves and dwarves, that was a combination he would never be able to bear for any prolonged amount of time, not even if the fate of all of Middle-Earth were at stake.  
  
"Forget your prejudices and think for a moment, please!" he told the two elves next to him firmly. "They would not just make up such a story! They have nothing to win if they start a war with Erebor."  
  
"They would increase their territory," Celylith commented, thinking as a warrior now.  
  
"They are dwarves, Celylith," Legolas reminded his friend as they made their way through the still busy city, "Not men. They are not interested in land, only in their mountains and mining stone."  
  
"Exactly," Aragorn nodded his head, deciding to ignore the snide tone of voice his elven friend had used. "They are not interested in Dale or anything else here. They have a reason for their actions, and I think we all know who that group is that is disturbing their borders."  
  
"Gwemyr and his friends," Celylith said thoughtfully, biting down on his lower lip in thought. "They are naïve enough to act as thoughtlessly as that."  
  
"Yes," the young ranger nodded. "Even though I cannot imagine where these two dwarves have disappeared to."  
  
Legolas shrugged, suppressing a heartfelt 'And who cares?'.  
"It is possible that they have lost their way. Dwarves know nothing but stone, and the living world is nothing they can comprehend."  
  
Aragorn resisted the urge to roll his eyes.  
"But they aren't stupid either, Legolas. Besides, it is rather hard not to find your way to Erebor, all you have to do is follow the River Running upstream. Even Seobryn would be able to find his way here. Perhaps it has something to do with Lomar's friends."  
  
"So what do we do now?" Celylith asked as they stopped in front of the inn's large wooden doors, their breath freezing in the cold air. "We need to find these Lake-men before they get killed or inadvertently cause a war."  
  
Aragorn looked at the two elves and asked himself how in the name of Elbereth he would be able to convince them of his plan.  
  
"There is only one way." He took a deep breath and added, "We must visit King Dáin and see what he has to say about all this."  
  
It garnered an interesting reaction, that much was sure. Celylith's mouth fell open, and Legolas' eyes opened so wide Aragorn was convinced that they would pop out of their socket soon.  
  
"We will do what?" both of them asked disbelievingly.  
  
"Are you mad?" Legolas added helpfully after a second. "Visit the _dwarves_? In their _mountain_? Without a contingent of _guards_?" He looked at the human in sudden concern. "Are you well, Estel?" He reached out to place a hand on his friend's forehead. "Do you have a fever? Perhaps you have caught a cold or something, you are not thinking clearly…"  
  
Aragorn did roll his eyes now, and forcefully pressed Legolas' hand down.  
"No, I am well, thank you very much for your concern. They will not harm us, they know perfectly well that they cannot fight both Dale and Mirkwood, even if they wanted to. It would be an act of war to harm you, and they are not that stupid."  
  
"You are once again assuming that they think reasonably," Celylith mumbled under his breath, earning himself a dark glare from the young ranger.  
  
The dark haired man opened the door, motioning his elven friend to precede him.  
"Trust me, it is a good idea."  
  
"It is not!" two irate elven voices mumbled. "You must be insane, Strider, I am not going under that mountain, not if you promised me…"  
  
Aragorn rolled his eyes again, thinking that he really should stop doing that lest he wanted his eyeballs to come loose or get stuck in a different position than they were in now.  
  
It would be a long evening, that he was sure of. A very, very long evening.  
  
  
  
  
Hanar waited until the ranger had followed the elves inside before he dared move again. He lay flattened on the roof of one of the houses opposite the inn, and even though he was sure that the elves and the ranger could not have seen him, it always paid to be careful.  
  
That was probably the thing that had caused Lomar's downfall, he decided while he was climbing down the house, carefully choosing cracks in the wall to place his hands and feet. He had underestimated the three of them.  
  
'But he is supposed to be dead!' he raged inwardly, moving stealthily through the emptying streets, giving the inn behind him not another glance. 'The ranger is supposed to be dead!'  
  
Hanar forcefully calmed himself. Thinking about these things wouldn't help him now, and he would certainly not make the mistake Lomar had and trust that he could take on two elves and a ranger.  
  
He reached the inn where he had rented a room and stabled his horse for the past two days. His captain had sent him to Dale to warn him and the others should there be any trouble, and especially to warn them should the elves really come here.  
  
Well, he thought darkly as he paid the rent for the room and the horse, they had come here, and they had even brought the ranger, damn them! He was leaving, right now, there was no way he was staying in this town and risking the chance that the man might recognise him.   
  
Personally he was rather sure that the ranger had never really seen his face since Lomar had done all the talking, but he was not prepared to take that chance. He had almost forgotten to breathe when he had seen the elves and the man today, who had looked almost back to normal now. The bruises he himself had partly placed on his face were fading, and he had seemed in good spirits and lively, that accursed whelp of a ranger!  
  
Hanar quickly made his way upstairs to collect the few things he had brought, ever growing rage bubbling in his chest. Now that he had actually seen them again, he was sure that Lomar was dead. There was the possibility that he had been captured of course, but since the Lake-men used to turn over major criminals to Dale to face the king's judgement, he should already have arrived here had that been the case.  
  
No, he thought, grabbing his pack and the bow he had left behind since he had judged it to be useless anyway in the densely packed street of this town, Lomar was dead. Dead because of them. He allowed his fury to grow and intensify; this was at least something he could hold on to until he got a chance to finish their little interrogation with the ranger. He would make the boy wish he had never been born, and make him regret that the elves had found and rescued him in the first place.  
  
Hanar stepped out of the inn, a dark smile on his face. Adruran would be very interested indeed in their arrival and the fact that they had already spoken to the king, and he would hopefully give him the opportunity to take revenge on the ranger. Or on the elves, but he would actually prefer the ranger, he wasn't stupid enough to take on two elves, or even one, for that matter.  
  
Even if his captain did not, he would find a way to get his hands on him, Hanar vowed as he opened the stable doors to get his horse.  
  
They would regret having ever come here, he would make sure of that.  
  
  
  
  
  
**TBC...**  
  
  
  
  
  
_Gwannathach as sen, dúnadan - You will die for this, ranger  
mellonamin - my friend  
  
  
  
  
  
_***rubs hands* And the stage is set, more or less! Now we can start with the real fun... Meaning: Chapter 18 is just around the corner! *evil grin*** **Alright, if I get many reviews (I know, the shameless blackmailing again! *g*), I'll try to post the next bit on Sunday, in which we see: Annoyed elves, even more annoyed dwarves, very annoyed evil men and in the end, an exceptionally annoyed ranger. *shrugs* Everybody's annoyed, I guess... So: Review! Please? Pretty please? *puppy dog eyes*  
  
  
  
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**Additional A/N:  
  
TrinityTheSheDevil - ***pats her back carefully* Oh ... *insincere sympathetic smile* ... poor you, I'm sure it's a great horse movie... *huggles* I like the pic, really! I can see what you mean, but believe it or not, I never really picture the characters when I write them - weird, I know. *g* You tied Celylith to your desk? *goes away quickly, whistling* I haven't seen anything, I don't _want_ to see anything...   
**Amelie** - *g* I know that sloths do not hibernate, especially since they live in the jungle, but THEY don't know that, do they? *g* Uhm, nope, you can't have Legolas in between the chapters, I'm afraid, he's not safe. He tries to escape the entire time, so I must keep them locked in the basement for that time... And see? Chapter 18 is only one more chapter away, don't worry - hmmm, or better yet, DO worry... *evil grin*  
**XsilicaX** - *nods* Yes, _I_ would have killed them too, a long time ago... And I don't think that him travelling with Aragorn, Legolas and the twins would be a very good idea ... he might get violent, don't you think? I know I would... *ducks one of her Celylith plot bunnies* It's already written! It's too late to change it now! You will have to wait and see, I'm afraid.... *cackles madly* LOL, sure, you would have to bathe poor little Estel, yeah, right.... *snorts* Oh no! *worried* Don't tell me the weather is bad! I am coming in a week! It HAS to be good! *whines*  
**Coreinha** - *huggles her more tightly* What, you don't like group hugs? Why not? LOL, I hate them mysekf, but that's another story... *g* *looks at Cor's pocket* You really have a big pocket, don't you? I mean, if he can dive into it and stuff ... but okay, if you think he likes it there, that's okay. Hold on to that thought! *defensively* I didn't smoke anything! It was my naturally insane character! *g*  
**Leggylover03** - *g* Why do you people all think that they will find trouble? I never said that - but ah well, whom am I kidding? OF COURSE they will find trouble! Mhahahahah! *runs off giggling madly* And I think I mentioned it once or twice already, you're bloodthirsty. Let's just say that yes, Estel will get hurt, but so will Legolas. Happy?  
**Alex Mistress Squirrel** - Yes, it did come out rather quickly, but FF.net screwed up again, so most people couldn't read it for a long time... *shrugs* Life's not fair... And hey, you would be paranoid too if you were travelling with these two! I know I would be! T.T.F.N.? The third fanfiction nerd? Take those frogs not? What does it mean? *g*  
**Halo - ***whistles innocently* No, whatever gave you THAT idea? And go ahead, kill Aragorn in TCoV - you know that I know what happens, so that's not much of a threat... *g* Oh, it's your birthday in a week! Yay Halo! You want a present? What about my undying love and devotion? No? Hmm, I will have to think of something then... You know what? I thought of something ingenious! What about we meet sometime after the 8th of August and go and see PotC together? Huh? What do you think?  
**Strider's Girl** - Oh, thank you! I'm doing my best, glad you liked it, even though it was rather insane... *g* Thanks for the review!  
**Mouse** - *blushes* Well, I'm glad someone likes the setting-up-part - I know that it is not THAT interesting, but it has to be done, hasn't it? I mean, I can't have them do weird things that no-one understands just because I wa too lazy to explain things a bit... And the wicked part: I think it gets interesting from chapter 17 on, so only one more chappie and you're there!  
**Alilacia** - Yeah, FF.net can be a pain sometimes, huh? What am I saying, somtimes? Most of the time, actually! Uh, no, they don't have orcs looking for the treasure - it was an insult. No orcs in this story, I think, perhaps a little, but not really. They need a break too, don't they? The men's names could very well be Dumb and Dumber, I haven't actually thought of names. Would fit them, though... *g* Cellyith didn't sound as bad as Legolas! I DESPISE that scene in the movie, and I resent that comment! *grins sheepishly* Well yes, maybe he did sound a little bit like him... You're right about the tattoo! I watched it again, and there IS a bandage!  
**Jambaby1963** - Yes, well, I know. Most of the readers don't want me to kill him, but ... I really WANT to! Anyway, it's written now, so you'll just have to wait and see... *g* And I do that with my sister sometimes, too. I mean, I am already 21, but there's no reason not to annoy your mother a bit from time to time, huh?  
**CrazyLOTRfan** - *hangs head* I PROMISE you an evil cliffy in chapter 18, alright? Chapter 17 has a tiny one as well, and from then on there are lots - okay? *g* Yes, we would never have found that one out if Legolas hadn't pointed out the likelihood... *nods* Celylith's life is not easy, definitely not ... but then again, Legolas' is worse right now... *evil grin*  
**Sirithiliel** - _Everybody_ had problems with FF.net - I sometimes really, really hate it.... *hands twitch* I do hope it's not doing that again in the near future, or I will go mad, I swaer I will... *g* Thanks for reviewing!  
**Jack Sparrow** - Aha! A PotC fan! You're so lucky, I wish I'd have seen it already... I think I can safely say that yes, they will get into more trouble and that Adruran is planning something nasty... *g* But you already knew that, so... Thanks for the review!  
**Aron** - *blushes* Wow, thanks for all the compliments! They only serve to inflate my ego, but they DO sound nice.... And I agree with you there, I don't think that Aragorn and Celylith or anyone else for that matter will forget about that wonderful name in the near future... *g* And don't worry, Adruran is NOT going insane, he is just a little bit stressed out lately. I'll admit that that isn't good either for our intrepid heroes, but he's not cracking - not yet anyway. Right now he is still rather reasonable... LOL, no, Geran is NOT a nice fellow, that is true. They SHOULD have stayed at home, but then again, it would be boring if they did, right? *g*  
**Imbefaniel - **Well, I think you're right, Rammstein is good when you wnat to develop aggressive feelings or into a psychopath, so go on, it's nice music... Oh, it wasn't your fault that FF.net went bonkers again, so no need to apologise! Congrats! Your dad has a new bow! And admit it, you LIKE that you're a better shot than him... *g*  
**Reginabean** - *g* So, chapter 15 made more sense after you'd read chapter 14? That's comforting, it was meant to be that way... *g* I would hate to write chapters that are not important to the story... Oh, and yes, there is going to be elf/dwarf hatred in the future, don't worry. Legolas can be quite arrogant sometimes, too... *g* And Celylith HAS to be saved? Look, I am really sorry about Nólad, but I thought we'd out that behind us! And the Celylith bit is already written, you'll just have to wait and see, I'm afraid... *g*  
**Alisha** - *shrugs* I don't know either where the sloth came from. Perhaps because I had just watched Ice Age? But nah, it was before that - I have no explanation either, must have been my weird brain... *stern look* No kidnapping, you hear me? Not even a baddie! No-one kidnaps my characters! And yes, you have my permission to try and extract some DNA from Celylith, good luck with that. He's wicked fast, he is... *g* Thanks for your review! I love your reviews! *huggles* Really, I do!  
**A Person** - Aragorn's revenge is here! *pushes into direction of the chapter* Go, shoo! Read and be merry! *g* Great you like the story, and were you the person that threatened me with pancakes? If so, then you're really insane... Thanks for reviewing, anyway!  
**Helen T** - *huggles* Great to see you again! *sighs* It wasn't a cliffy, not even a semi-cliffy! Just a little bit of foreshadowing, no harm in that, is there? Well, not much, anyway... *g*  
**Firnsarnien** - Gwaihir is coming too? Well, then ... *pats her flak cannons* ... he will be in for a surprise, the sweet little birdie... *evil grin* None can defeat me! I am invincible! Mahahahahah! And hey! I resent that! My feet aren't smelly! *looks at feet* Not much, anyway... Okay... *tries not to grin evilly* I will _consider_ not killing him. Happy now? Let's just say that it's already written and that you'll simply have to wait and see, okay? *g*   
**TrustingFriendship** - I really missed you! Honestly! I always think that people don't review for a while because the chapters were bad, so I was really afraid for a while here... *g* And I love Elrond and the twins too, but I needed Aragorn to stay in Mirkwood, and they couldn't have stayed as well, sorry... 'Hopefully it will help them bear the inevitable torment...'? Honestly, what are you people thinking? I'm not that bad, am I? On second thought, DON'T answer that...  
**Firniswin** - I knew what you meant, I was only joking, don't worry... Uhm, and no, I haven't read that, sorry ... is it here on FF.net? But Dark Visions I know of yourse, as I said, I know what you mean... Glad you liked the last part, even though he was slightly mad! Thanks for your reviews!  
**Seveawen** - Uhm, don't you have The Hobbit or the LOTR books? There are maps in both of them... But yes, Dale (and therefore Adruran) is right next to the Lonely Mountain. *g* And yes, Geran is a little bit like Donyc, but then again, he's evil and all these evil guays are alike, aren't they? *grins* So you''re 'ill'? Poor you! Stay in bed and drink tea then!  
**Cestari** - Gosh, you were stung in the finger by a bee? That's bad, I hope you're not allergic to them? I kinda like bees, but onl if they don't sting, that is... *g* Great you liked the chapter despite its weirdness! Thanks for all your nice reviews!**  
Marbienl** - Well, young men can do that, really. My brother and several of my boyfriends could, but then again, my sister can sleep for ages too. Well, as I said a few chapters earlier, Celylith did have nightmares, and I guess so has Legolas, but the last thing that could have given them some has been some time in the past. Besides, they are LOTS older and had had more time to figure out how to deal with these things. Well, I guess to be able to deal with dwarves and elves, a ranger would need a doubly stiff neck then, huh? *g* You have such an evil mind, did I ever tell you that? Get a grip, woman, I will tell you when he is injured, okay? His burns are fine, Jeez... LOL, I didn't see the connection between the guards and the cave troll, but now you mention it... *g* Uhm, I... *blinks* You too? You like Celylith, huh? Well, just wait a little bit longer and ye shall see... *g* And I am really, really sorry for your loss. Not. I mean, I am, poor you, without Anca... *g*  
**Critternut** - Nope, I didn't have to much sugar, nor was I drunk or high, I was just having a good day, as I said. That happens sometimes, and it really was spontaneous... I haven't seen that movie either, but as soon as it's coming out in England I'll see it! No-one will be able to stop me! Mhahahah! *clears throat* Ah well, whatever...   
**Aratfeniel** - Yeah, rub it in, go on.... I KNOW that I haven't seen it yet, so why don't you tell me another _hundred_ times, will you? *g* To be honest, I don't kow it either, they just like so different things and their lifestyle is different as well, I think... Plus they're both stiff-necked and stubborn, so that's probably not helping either... Well, I didn't have much time to write, too much to do. But I see what I can do...  
**Fliewatuet** - *g* Yes, I agree, they are most definitely annoying... And yes, I do want to kill Celylith. Please don't ask me why, I just do, okay? But everyone else here doesn't, so I'm really torn. There probably is a petition you can sign somewhere around here, just go and ask Zam, she's really obsessed.... *g* So you too? You would 'never ever' forgive me? Well, that's a threat worth considering, so _perhaps_ he'll live... *g*   
**TigerLily713** - Well, I don't know yet who's going to kill whom, but I'm thinking about it, believe me... Yay! You coould read the chapter more or less on time! Congratulations! *huggles*  
**Tapetum Lucidum** - *g* So it was YOU who broke FF.net? Shame on you, I cried for three days because of the withdrawal symptoms...*g* It is in fact a miracle that they managed to get to Dale without getting killed or killing each other - if I were Celylith I would have killed them! LOL, 'Geran sounds like a bad, bad man'? Well, you could definitely say that, I think... And no, I don't understand his obsession with elves either. I know nobody who is obsessed with elves, do you? *g*  
**Kaeera** - *irres Grinsen* Neeein, tu gar nicht erst so ... ich weiss, was du planst ... du bist gar nicht du! Du tust nur so, als waerst du du, dabei bist du in echt dein boeser Zwilling oder so! Kaeera ist in Wirklichkeit tot, du hast sie ersetzt um die Weltherrschaft an dich zu reissen oder so... LOL, schoen dich 'wiederzusehen'! Ich dachte schon, etwas furchtbares sei dir widerfahren oder so ... wenn es 'nur' RL war, dann ist ja gut... Hoert sich ja wirklich beschaeftigt an... *g* Ich hoffe, du hast nicht allzu viel Arbeit! Und ich wuerde gerne gucken, leider bin ich aber vom 30.7. bis zum 1.9. wieder in England, wird also leider nix...  
**ThE iNsAnE oNe - ***huggles* Miki! You're back! You survived the journey in the giant bird! Well done! *pats her back* Once again, I hope you had lots of fun in Costa Rica and wherever else you went, and I really hope Estel didn't bring the sloth, no matter if it was a three-toed or a two-toed one. It's quite hard to get them the food they like, so... *g* I missed you and your insanity, and I hope that your stories are ... well, that they are being written? Huh? I'm still waiting for that Gollum/Aragorn scene... *g*  
  
**Okay, I need to get back to Hannibal and my studies now. I am really getting tired of him... A huge Thanks to all my reviewers! Thank you so much!**  
  
  
  
  



	17. Into the Lion's Den

**Disclaimer: **For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.  
  
  
**A/N:  
  
Well, here it is, the last chapter before I go to England for a month. Ahhhhhhh!!! *ducks several heavy objects* Now, calm down, calm down, let me explain! *gives angry readers careful looks*   
  
Okay, so first: I have bought a laptop (and it's beautiful! *sighs in adoration*) and I really hope that it will arrive before I leave. If it does, I will be able to update quite frequently, probably starting again in six or seven days. If not, I really have no idea when or if I'll be able to post, but I'll promise to try my best, okay?  
Second: I'm moving out of my flat today and everything is rather ... chaotic right now, so there is no way I can post again before Wednesday.  
And third: The next chapter's a cliffy, and I would really not want to leave you like that. It might have detrimental effects on your - and my - health, so I think it's better to post it once I know I can update frequently.  
**  
***folds arms across chest* See? I knew you would be reasonable! *ducks yet _more_ heavy objects* Wow, you're a tough crowd... *g*  
  
Oh, and I must say that I am surprised! Fliewatuet has just founded the 'Celylith lives' foundation - you guys really like him, huh? *shrugs* You'll all find out what happens to him, in chapters 18/19, so only a bit longer and you'll be there!  
  
Well, enough ranting, on to the story!   
  
  
Here's chapter 17, written while sitting on a box in an near-empty room with only a naked lightbulb... *g*** **Okay, what do we have... As I said, rather annoyed and vengeful elves, we see more of Adruran and his evil plans and they really get to Erebor, therefore this is also the first chapter with dwarves. *huggles her dwarves* They're sweet, I love them...  
  
So, enjoy and review, please!  
  
  
**  


* * *

  
  
  
Chapter 17  
  
  
"No, Aragorn."  
  
"Legolas, please…"  
  
"No, _dúnadan_. And that is final."  
  
"Celylith, talk to him."  
  
"No, Estel, I will not. This is madness, and he is right."  
  
Aragorn looked at the two elves that were standing in front of him in his room, the pale morning light surrounding them and reflecting off their fair hair. Both wore expressions of equal stubbornness, a sight that would have had lesser men – or elves, for that matter – run in panic.  
  
"Legolas, listen to me. There is no other way. They will not harm you."  
  
"That is not my concern," the elven prince replied icily, not prepared to rise to his friend's bait. "I will not go to that mountain asking the dwarves for information, and nothing you can say will change my mind."  
  
"You have a duty to your people."  
  
"…damn you."  
  
Aragorn grinned evilly at his elven friend who was right now very occupied with glaring daggers at him.  
"What will you do if this really descends into war? We can stop this now, Legolas! And if I have to swallow my pride and go and ask the dwarves, I will do just that. And so will you, my friend."  
  
Legolas glared at the young human who wore an exceptionally smug expression right now. Aragorn was right of course, he admitted after a second, he would never let his personal pride get in the way of what needed to be done for the sake of the kingdom, and that annoying man knew that perfectly well.  
  
"You are right," he mumbled after a second.  
  
Aragorn was too intelligent to tease his friend any further, knowing full well what it had cost the elf to admit this. He flashed Legolas a brilliant smile that tended to either convince people of his innocence or awoke in them the powerful urge to kill him. In this case, he hoped for the former, since he really didn't think that Celylith would protect him. It appeared that the silver haired elf loathed his idea even more than Legolas.  
  
"Then let us be off," he addressed the elves in front of him, walking over to his bed and about to pick up his weaponbelt, "It shouldn't take us longer than three hours to reach the Front Gate of the mountain. I really would want to arrive before they had the chance to drink more ale than is good for their judgement."  
  
"Judgement? Dwarves?" Celylith asked in a low voice, "We really need to address this matter, ranger. Rather sooner than later, if you ask me."  
  
Aragorn rolled his eyes as he slung the belt around his middle, trying to hide a wince when the dull ache reawoke in his left side. He quickly masked his facial expression, but it was not quickly enough to fool the keen elven eyes of his companions.  
  
Legolas looked at Celylith, a wicked grin on his face that was mirrored by the other elf after a second. Before Aragorn could react, he had stepped closer to his human friend and pressed him down onto the bed while Celylith quickly left the room to get his healing utensils.  
  
"You are going nowhere before we have changed those bandages," he told the man with a smug look on his face.  
  
Aragorn vainly tried to dislodge the hold the blonde elf had on his uninjured shoulder, scowling darkly at him.  
"I am perfectly alright!" he hissed at the elven prince.  
  
"Oh, but of course you are," Celylith assured him, just entering the room with an armful of bandages, small pots and flasks. "We just don't want those burns to fester now, do we?"  
  
The young ranger glared at the elves, shrugged Legolas' hands off and started to unbutton his shirt.  
"You are doing this just because of the dwarves, admit it."  
  
Legolas and Celylith locked eyes for a second.  
"Yes."  
  
"But that's not the point," Celylith insisted, starting to unravel the linen straps. "They really need to be changed." He looked at him with a friendly smile. "Would you like a sleeping potion?"  
  
If looks could kill, Celylith would have dropped dead right now and then.  
  
"No," Aragorn snapped testily, trying not to wince openly when the elf was starting to wash the nearly healed burns. "I am fine, thank you very much."  
  
Legolas grinned at the young man on the bed that was obviously just trying to intimidate Celylith with his _look_, which didn't really work since the silver haired elf adamantly refused to meet his eyes.  
"Come now, Aragorn, be sensible! If we can see the necessity to visit the _naugrim_, then you can see the necessity there is for changing the bandages, can't you?"  
  
The ranger looked up at his elven friend, eyes narrowing in annoyance.  
"I never liked that expression, you know."  
  
"What expression?" Legolas asked, honestly confused now. "'Stunted'? But that's what they are, stunted, loud, impolite annoying little…"  
  
"I see your point," Aragorn quickly assured him. "And I would really advise you to watch what you're saying when we get to Erebor. It would not help at all if you insulted them in their own halls."  
  
The elven prince just looked at him haughtily.  
"Dwarves could never learn a word of Elvish, not even to save their mithril or those ridiculous beards they treasure so much."  
  
"Are you so sure about that?" the dark haired ranger shot back, smiling his thanks at Celylith who was just rewrapping his chest. "Why not?"  
  
Legolas gazed at him with a look of pity in his silver-blue eyes.  
"Why not, human? Because they just can't, that's why. Besides, they would never want to learn a language that does not have more than two dozen words for 'stone' or 'rocks'."  
  
"But you know some Dwarvish curses, don't you?" Aragorn asked, grabbing his shirt and quickly pulling it over his head. The fire had already burnt down, and it was rather chilly in here, for a human, that was.  
  
"Well, yes," Legolas admitted, rolling his eyes at the inability of his friend to understand that dwarves could really not be compared to the _eldar_. "But that's different."  
  
"I can't see how," the man countered, getting up from the bed and fastening his weaponbelt around his waist. "Just try and be a bit diplomatic. Please," the said, seeing the expression on his elven friend's face that could only be described as fierce loathing, "Do it for me. I really am too young to have my head chopped off by an irate dwarf just because you couldn't resist the temptation of calling him names."  
  
Aragorn turned to Celylith who was just carefully putting the healing utensils back into a bag he had found next to the man's bed.  
"That goes for you too, Celylith. Don't insult them."  
  
The silver haired elf looked up in mock surprise.  
"Me? Strider, I am hurt! I would never do such a thing!"  
  
The ranger merely gave him a friendly smile.  
"But of course not, _mellonamin_, what was I thinking? Then the dwarves count as fascinating creatures as well?"  
  
The elf looked at him with a mixture of surprise and disgust in his eyes.  
"Don't be ridiculous, Estel."  
  
Aragorn looked at the silver haired elf, musing that he didn't really see how one could love spiders but dislike dwarves, especially when one was an elf. Dwarves may be proud, stubborn and hot-headed at times, put then again, so were elves. He shook his head slightly. He would very much like to see the day an elf and a dwarf spent some time together, learned to value the other's virtues and strengths and actually admitted that they weren't that different at all. The ranger would almost have laughed aloud. That day would never come, and if it somehow did, he would be long since dead.  
  
He grabbed his cloak and grinned at the two elves in front of him that looked about as cheerful as prisoners in the dungeons of Barad-dûr.   
"Let's go then. Remember what I told you, and, in Elbereth's name, try to keep that annoying, stiff elven haughtiness in check, will you?"  
  
Before his companions could say anything, he had quickly slipped out of the door, his grin only widening.  
  
"'Stiff'?" Celylith asked after a speechless moment, raising a dark silver eyebrow.  
  
"'Elven haughtiness'?" Legolas added, looking at his elven friend.   
  
From the direction of the stairs that led to the ground level of the inn something that could only be described as an evil laugh could be heard.  
"You heard me!" Aragorn announced loudly, chortling with laughter.   
  
"My lord," Celylith began, righting the quiver on his back, "I know that you like that … that human, but do you think it would be possible for me to hurt him just a bi…"  
  
"Absolutely, _mellonamin_," the elven prince nodded, a wicked light shining in his eyes. "What is Arda coming to when a mere human may insult us and go unpunished? Besides, I still have a score to settle with him about that little hair incident." He looked grimly at his childhood friend as they made their way down the wooden staircase. "Estel needs to be taught a lesson, I'm afraid."  
  
The other elf looked at his friend, grinning broadly now.  
"I will of course assist you in any way I can, my prince. Do you have anything specific in mind yet?"  
  
"No," Legolas shook his head, giving the dark haired human that was waiting for them at the door that led to the courtyard behind the inn a friendly smile. "No, not yet, but I think we will have more than enough time to think of something on the way to that accursed mountain of his, wouldn't you agree?!  
  
Celylith nodded his head at that, still grinning like a cat that had just caught sight of a particularly tasty-looking mouse.  
"Aye, my friend, we definitely will. I will show him 'elven haughtiness', Eru help me!"  
  
Aragorn looked from one grinning face to the other, and quickly asked himself if King Dáin would allow him to stay in Erebor for the next few days. He didn't care if the dwarves wanted to start a war with Dale or not, he would be incomparably safer there than in the company of his elven friends, that much was obvious.  
  
  
  
  
Adruran was standing on a little hill just next to the new campsite they had chosen, surveying the surroundings with a keen glance.  
  
Dale lay a few hours worth of travel to the East, hidden behind a great, towering slope of the Lonely Mountain, now a bit farther away than it had been from the last camp. Besides, it was closer to the Lake-men's, and the distance wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Of course, it did make everything a bit more difficult, especially transporting provisions and other things here, but it also reduced the risk of discovery.  
  
The Men of Dale were maybe not exactly born soldiers, but they were also not stupid, and it had only been a matter of time until they would have been discovered.  
  
But still, the camp was too open for his liking. It was a bit too close to the Lake-men as well, but this had been the only more or less acceptable place more than five leagues in either direction. So he had ordered to make camp here, even though he was anything but happy about the arrangement.  
  
'This is not good,' he decided for about the thirtieth time today. 'No, this is not good at all.'  
  
To be precise, everything had gone from bad right to catastrophic the exact moment Hanar had arrived at their new campsite yesterday evening, looking as if he had just seen a ghost or at the very least a person he had not expected to see ever again…  
  
  
_"Would you care to repeat that?"  
  
Hanar shuffled his feet and studied the dusty tips of his boots with obvious fascination.  
"They are here."  
  
Adruran resisted the urge to burrow his face in his hands and glared at the other man instead.  
"And who, pray tell, would 'they' be?"  
  
"The elves and the ranger, sir," the younger man quietly said, eyes still fixed on the floor as if he might find something unbelievably interesting there.  
  
"The ranger?" his captain asked, lifting his eyebrows. "The same ranger you and the dear Lomar chose to 'have a talk' with, the one that would 'talk the soonest'?" When the other wouldn't answer, he added, rather close to shouting now, "Answer me, man!"  
  
Hanar jumped slightly and finally raised his eyes to meet his superior's, wincing inwardly when he saw his irate face.  
"Yes, sir. The same."  
  
Adruran had to fight hard not to do something that would cost him yet another of his men.  
"So you are trying to say that the elves – and the ranger of course, let's not forget about him – are here, in Dale, just a few hours away, and that at the worst possible moment? That they are here because you and Lomar didn't think before acting and led them straight here? Is that what you are trying to say?"  
  
The other man swallowed nervously, not at all sure what was the right answer to that question. In fact, he wasn't even sure if there **was** a right answer at all.  
"Yes, sir."  
  
His captain looked at him, clenching his teeth.  
"Did they see you?"  
  
"No, sir. I am sure that they did not."  
  
Adruran almost gave a loud sigh of relief. Finally, a tiny ray of hope.  
  
"Get out," he said quietly, shaking his head. "Get out and don't show your face again any time soon."  
  
Hanar obeyed only too willingly, slipping out of the tent as quickly and quietly as he could. He didn't know what his superior was planning, but he was rather sure that now was not the time to ask.  
  
Adruran looked after the man, asking himself again why every single one of his plans seemed to fail before he had even had time to execute them properly on this mission. It must be connected to the elves, he finally decided. They were nothing but trouble, the whole lot of them.  
_  
  
And to that opinion he still held, Adruran decided with another look at the camp. If you had any chance at all to avoid that particular race, you would do well to do just that. The same went for rangers, who weren't even entirely human in his opinion. The ones he had seen in his lifetime had been more than a little bit elvish, and sometimes he even believed the rumours that said that they had elven blood, as weird and ludicrous as that thought might seem on first glance.  
  
"Sir?" a rather timid voice behind him sounded, and he turned to look at Tiddryr, his red-haired lieutenant.  
  
"Yes, Tiddryr?" he asked, not even trying to hide the exasperation in his voice. "What is it? Please do not tell me that the elves are already here. I think that is the only thing that could make this day any worse."  
  
"No, sir," the other man assured him quickly, deciding inwardly that the appearance of his captain's sarcastic humour was anything but a good sign. He had been on several missions with Adruran, and the fact that he had returned alive from all of them spoke for the older man's skills and expertise. He had known him long enough now to know that it was not a good thing when the brown haired man was beginning to make sarcastic remarks. It was usually a sign that his plans went astray, and that was not something you wanted to experience if you wanted to return home alive.  
  
"No," he repeated, looking at the other man, "No, they are not here. The men that we sent to Dale to replace Hanar will report should they leave the town. We will be warned in time."  
  
"Good," Adruran mumbled, inwardly not really seeing how this was good at all. The appearance of the elves was seriously jeopardising his plans, and that was something he did not appreciate in the slightest.  
  
"But," Tiddryr continued, obviously plucking up his courage, "What will we do if they come here? We cannot abandon the camp, and we won't be able to hide it from them." When he saw the darkening face of his superior, he quickly added, hoping to appease him, "Sir."  
  
Adruran looked at his lieutenant, trying to decide whether he should kill him for his presumptuousness or tell him of his plans.   
'Plans?' he thought inwardly, 'What plans? All the plans you ever had have just disintegrated like snow in the rain.'  
  
Oh, there was that as well: Snow. He was getting tired of it, actually, and in his opinion he was getting too old to camp outside when there was a snow cover on the ground that partly reached your hips.  
  
After a few moments that served to increase Tiddryr's nervousness tenfold, he finally decided that killing the man would solve no-one's problems, especially not his. Besides, it was an unreasonable thing to do, and one could say what one wanted about him, but he wasn't unreasonable.   
  
He turned away from the man to look over the campsite again, beckoning him to step closer.  
"Tell me what you see."  
  
Tiddryr complied and stood next to his superior, lifting copper eyebrows in confusion.  
"The camp, sir."  
  
Adruran snorted and shook his head.  
"That is not what I see," he told the younger man, turning to face him. "I see a disaster waiting to happen. Nobody within a few miles will be able to overlook this camp, no matter how stupid or blind they are. If the elves really come looking for us, we're done for."  
  
Tiddryr decided wisely that Adruran didn't really expect an answer to this and did not comment on his assessment.  
  
His captain continued, glaring darkly at the sight that spread out before his eyes.  
"You were watching the Lake-men's camp yesterday with me, were you not? Then tell me what you saw there."  
  
The red haired man swallowed nervously, having the feeling that this was turning into an exam of some sort. And growing inside of him was the bad feeling that you would not get a second chance if you failed that particular test.  
  
"Amateurs," he answered after a second. "They were just as careless and naïve as all the other times, but…" He looked at the expressionless face of the other man that was watching him closely, "But I think they were even more excited and headless than usual."  
  
Adruran smiled grimly.  
"And why do you think that is?"  
  
"If I had to make a guess, I would say that they are very close now," Tiddryr stated carefully. "The fact that almost all of them have left the camp this morning supports that theory."  
  
"Very good, Tiddryr," Adruran smiled. "It appears that you have some power of observation after all." He turned back to the camp with a scowl. "That is just what I think. In my opinion they will finally reach the treasure today, and, Great Ones, it took them long enough, too."  
  
"So what will you do?" Tiddryr asked, a little bit comforted that his captain hadn't cut off his head already. He wasn't exactly known to do such things, because he was, after all, a reasonable man. With Geran it would be a different thing though, he thought suddenly. If Geran were their captain, he would defect as quickly as possibly, even risking the wrath of his liege who used to hang soldiers that did this. After some time in the dungeons of course, a time that made every normal person wish for death in an amazingly short amount of time.  
  
No, he thought again, Geran did enjoy other beings' pain far too much, a trait that would land him into real trouble one of these days. He noticed that Adruran began to speak, and concentrated on the conversation at hand. After all, his captain might be a reasonable man, but he didn't take kindly to disrespect either.  
  
"Do?" Adruran asked and looked at him. "Well, I fully intend to wait until they have really found that elusive treasure. I am sure neither you nor your men are too intent on digging for it, are you?"  
  
"No!" Tiddryr assured the older man quickly, "No, of course not. Then we will strike this evening?"  
  
Adruran looked at the other somewhat quizzically.  
"No, we will not."  
  
"We will not?" Tiddryr asked surprised. Somehow his captain was enjoying this I-know-what-is-going-to-happen-but-I'm-not going-to-tell-you attitude far too much.  
  
"No, Tiddryr, we will not," the brown haired man told him, looking at him as if he was an especially thick-headed child that just didn't want to understand that the sky was up and the ground was down. "And you know why not? Because, if we act now, we will have not only the Lake-men to worry about, but the elves and the ranger as well. The last thing we need now is to be surprised when we are just taking over their camp. Don't misunderstand this," he said, seeing his lieutenant's rather confused look, "I do not think that everything would be lost if they indeed managed to find us. We are twenty, after all, and they are only three."  
  
"But?" Tiddryr asked, sensing his superior's hesitancy.  
  
"But two of them are elves, and that is something one should never underestimate," Adruran explained, looking over his camp in thought, eyes not really seeing what lay in front of them. "Only a fool underestimates an elf, or a ranger at that matter. Most of those who do end up dead, rather quickly I might add." He looked at the red haired man with hard, flinty eyes. "I do not intend to make that mistake. I will not underestimate them, not for a second. The fact remains that they could severely disturb our operations here, and they will come looking for us. It is only a matter of time, especially if the ranger is still alive as Hanar claims. I do not think he will be willing to forget this little episode just like that, or what do you think?"  
  
The younger man mutely shook his head, and Adruran continued, speaking faster now, obviously having come to a decision.  
  
"No, I wouldn't have thought so. The point is, Tiddryr, that I really do not want them to disturb us. It is hard enough to keep those accursed dwarves away from the site with all this racket these imbeciles are creating, so the last thing I want is to have them appear here just like that."  
  
"But, sir, then what…"  
  
"…are we going to do?" Adruran asked, smiling slightly. "We will take steps so they won't disturb us tomorrow when we will finally act. We will undertake a little journey this night and make sure that they will not find us before we find them."  
  
Tiddryr nodded slowly.  
"That does sound like a good plan."  
  
"This is not something open to debate!" Adruran snapped suddenly, once again rather close to losing his temper. "If I want your opinion about my plans, I will certainly ask you for it!"  
  
The red haired man ducked his head, once again deciding that going on this mission had been one of the dumbest things he had ever done. If even Adruran was slowly losing his nerve – which was not something he was planning to tell him, by the way – then this whole enterprise was really not going well. Something that he had known for some time, anyway.  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
The older man glowered at him, trying hard to get his annoyance under control.  
'You're letting up,' he told himself disgustedly. He hated it when he lost his temper; it was nothing but a sign of weakness, proving that he could not control his emotions.  
  
A flurry of activity down in the camp caught both their attentions, and with a last dark look at his lieutenant Adruran slowly descended the small hill they were standing on, taking care not to slip. The very last thing he wanted now was to fall flat on his face in front of the entire camp, but the ground was frozen and covered with snow and it was therefore rather hard to manoeuvre.  
  
After a few minutes the two of them arrived in the camp, and Adruran soon spied the reason for this small disturbance: One of the two men he had sent to Dale in place of Hanar was just dismounting, greeting the men who had come to welcome him.  
  
Adruran gave the man some time to dismount and arrange for his horse to be taken to the others by one of the younger men before he stepped closer, studying the other's face closely. He had to take only one look at him to know that something had just gone wrong. Again.  
  
'And there goes my next plan,' he sighed inwardly. 'This entire mission is cursed, that's what it is. Cursed!'  
  
"What is it?" he asked the man gruffly.  
  
The younger man looked nervously from his captain's face to Tiddryr's, understanding in an instant that they were both not in a mood to be trifled with.   
"They left Dale, sir."  
  
Adruran closed his eyes shortly and forced himself to count to ten, very, very slowly. Damn these elves, damn the ranger, damn them all…  
  
"When and where?" he asked after he had fought down the urge to beat his head against the next tree he came across.  
  
"They left the inn about three hours ago, captain," the man reported and fixed his eyes on the tent behind his superiors. He would be damned if he gave any of them the opportunity to take their dark mood out on him. "We followed them to the northern gates and separated there. I came back here while Bleon stayed in the city in case they came back early, but we both don't think they will."  
  
"Why?" Tiddryr asked, mildly confused. "Why didn't you follow them?"  
  
"Because they wouldn't even have got farther than a few hundred feet before the elves would have put a few arrows in them," Adruran explained not so patiently. He turned to the man, nodding slightly. "It is well that you did not trail them. Where have they gone?"  
  
The man swallowed, trying to suppress his anxiety. Adruran would not like this…  
"They … they headed North, towards the Lonely Mountain, sir."  
  
Adruran looked blankly at him, his mind spinning faster and faster. So the elves had left Dale, and no-one knew when they would be back. That much about his plan to pay them a visit tonight, he thought, shaking his head inwardly.   
  
But there was something definitely _wrong_ about all this, he decided after a second. Elves that went to visit dwarves? He had to hide a small smile. If he was lucky, they might just kill each other and spare him a lot of work…  
  
"But there's more," the man added, carefully eyeing his captain.  
  
"And what would that be?" Adruran asked somewhat exasperatedly.  
  
"They went to visit the king yesterday," the other reported. "From what we've been able to gather, they were granted an audience and spent at least an hour inside of Bard's residence."  
  
Adruran clenched his jaw. Wonderful, he thought, it was really amazing how much worse everything could always become. No matter how much you believed that everything was as bad as it could possibly get, life had an uncanny way of proving you wrong.  
  
He narrowed his eyes and looked at the man again.  
"Did they have their baggage with them? Provision, water?"  
  
"No, sir. Bleon guessed that they went to talk with the dwarves about the things that have happened and were probably planning to come back later today."  
  
Adruran nodded, his mind already planning his next steps. He turned to his red haired lieutenant.  
"Get the men ready. We will leave in half an hour. Only the sentries that are watching the Lake-men will remain here and one man to have an eye on the camp."  
  
He dismissed the men with a small move of his hand, and turned around to come face to face with Geran, his youngest lieutenant. Behind him stood Hanar, the man that had recognised the elves and the ranger yesterday evening.  
  
"We are leaving, sir?" Geran asked neutrally.  
  
"Yes," Adruran nodded curtly, feeling much better now that he had decided what to do. "We are going after the elves and the ranger."  
  
He noted with a flash of worry that at these words both of the other men's eyes seemed to light up. It wasn't the light that you normally saw when men were looking forward to a fight or action, no, it was something more sinister, something that would only cause trouble, that much he was sure of.  
  
"Now?" Geran asked, with one hand unconsciously stroking the hilt of his knife.  
  
Adruran raised an eyebrow and looked at him, once again reining in his temper.  
"Yes, Geran, now. You have heard what he said, haven't you?"  
  
"Aye…"  
  
"Then you also know that we are in a corner now," Adruran stated, studying Geran's face closely.  
  
"Because they went to the king," the younger man said slowly, understanding dawning on his face.  
  
"Exactly," his captain nodded. "We cannot wait any longer for them to come to us. If we allow them to mediate, everything will truly been lost and all our hard work for naught."  
  
Geran returned the nod, shooting Hanar who was grinning from ear to ear a warning glare.  
"I will get my men ready then, sir."  
  
Before the younger man could turn to walk away, Adruran had grabbed his arm, halting his progress.  
  
"This is an operation under my command, Geran," he said in a low, warning tone of voice, "Not one of your little hunting expeditions. If I see that you cannot control your actions when the elves are concerned, the consequences will be dire. Understood?"  
  
"Understood, sir" Geran echoed, his brown eyes dark and serious.  
  
Adruran released his arm, and his lieutenant turned without a word and left, calling out for the men that were under his command. The brown haired captain turned as well and headed for the place where they kept the horses, close to the trees that protected two sides of the camp against the snow and chilly wind.  
  
He was not at all looking forward to this encounter, but now he had no other choice left. If he let the elves and the ranger solve Dale's little problem, all his work would have been in vain, and that was something he would definitely not allow.  
  
  
  
  
Aragorn wondered, not for the first time by the way, how it had come that he had ended up in the company of two obviously deranged elves and an absolutely crazy elven horse that eyed him as if it was seriously contemplating forsaking the life of a vegetarian and starting a new one as a carnivore. And he was apparently supposed to be the first course.  
  
'First course: Ranger chops with steamed vegetable and a light creamy sauce.'  
  
The young human quickly shook his head; this was a morbid line of thought even for him. He unobtrusively turned his head to the left and shot Rashwe a furtive glance. The horse looked back and sneered at him, if such a thing was even possible. He resisted the urge to shake his head again, quickly breaking the eye contact.  
  
This was intolerable, he thought with a frown. He was afraid of Legolas' horse, in Elbereth's name! But it was unbelievable how … human that horse could be. Or elvish, Aragorn corrected himself quickly, that horse was definitely elvish.   
  
The fact that Legolas and Celylith were very obviously planning something that just couldn't be conducive to his health didn't help his anxiety either. The ranger looked to the left again, trying to understand what the two of them were saying under their breath.  
  
_"Naeg … baul … amarth … agar…"_  
  
He gulped silently. This was not sounding good, no, not good at all. Where were Elladan and Elrohir when you needed them? But then again, they would probably only take Legolas' side to annoy him, and he would have to deal with four incessantly mumbling elves and not only two.  
  
"We will be there in a few minutes," he said, not really expecting anyone to listen to him, which they didn't either, of course.  
  
He looked straight ahead, sighing slightly.  
"We will arrive at Erebor in a few seconds," he repeated, and this time the two elves even lifted their heads and gave him a mildly interested look.   
  
"Oh, really?" Legolas asked, manoeuvring his horse closer to Aragorn's which tried to scoot away to the right to avoid the proximity. Apparently the animal agreed with its master's assessment of Rashwe's character.   
  
"Is that so?" he added and turned to his silver haired friend. "Did you hear that, _mellonamin_? We are almost there! In a few minutes we will see the dwarves! Isn't that wonderful?"  
  
Inwardly, Aragorn had to admit that he couldn't remember having ever heard someone that sarcastic before, and that meant a lot since his brothers and sometimes even Glorfindel could become quite sarcastic.  
  
"Thrilling, my lord," Celylith spoke as cheerlessly as an undertaker. "I cannot even find words to voice my feelings."  
  
"Oh, I can think of something, I believe," Legolas stated, wrinkling his brow and ignoring his human friend that was inconspicuously moving his horse to the side. "Let me think … what about … 'You will pay for this, ranger' … or 'You're a dead man, you just don't know it yet' or 'I am going to kill you with a wooden spoon'?"  
  
Celylith grinned at him, his mood apparently greatly improved.  
"I like the spoon."  
  
"You would," Aragorn commented wryly, trying to decide whether they were serious or not. Unfortunately, one could never say with these two. He looked innocently at his elven friends. "Nothing will happen to us. Trust me, my friends."  
  
"That is usually my first mistake," Legolas grumbled quite audibly.  
  
"Come now!" The young man called, leaning forwards slightly to make the steep road easier for his horse to climb. His companions' horses had less trouble with it, since they were lighter and didn't weight down the animals as much as he did. "When have I ever got us into trouble?"  
  
Celylith snickered while Legolas merely raised a quizzical eyebrow.  
"Shall I give you a list?"  
  
"List?" Aragorn asked. "What list, there are barely more than two times we got into trouble at all! That would be a rather short list!"  
  
"Two?" Celylith exclaimed with a wide grin on his face. "Two, Estel? Who taught you to count?"  
  
"My father," Aragorn said somewhat testily. "Are you finding a fault with that?"  
  
The silver haired elf looked rather reluctant to fault the Lord of Rivendell for anything, and so he didn't answer but simply grinned at the human who in turn glared darkly at him. Both were just thinking about a befitting come-back when Legolas made a sound of disgust deep in his throat.  
  
Aragorn looked up, and saw that they had indeed reached their destination: In front of them was the Front Gate of the Lonely Mountain, the big, cave-like entrance that led deep into the heart of Erebor and the source of the River Running.  
  
The river ran out on the one side of the cave; the other side of the cave floor was covered with a wide, stone-paved road that was wide enough for many grown men to walk abreast. A great stone arch wound round the cave opening, and on the sides on hinges there were great wooden doors, carved and adorned with runes and various images.  
  
Aragorn squinted slightly and tried to make out what they were saying, but he had never been that good at reading dwarvish runes. All he could read was something about Thorin Oakenshield and his glorious death in the Battle of Five Armies twelve years ago. Of course Dáin would praise his fame, he reasoned, Thorin had been his cousin after all.  
  
His elven companions didn't seem so interested in the doors and dwarven craftsmanship in general, but rather in the dwarven guards that stood in front of the doors, looking at them with a mixture of astonishment and suspicion.  
  
"Remember," Aragorn whispered softly, eyeing the group of five dwarves warily. "Do not insult them, and please try to be a bit diplomatic. Please."  
  
"Oh, we will not insult them," Legolas assured him quietly in Elvish. "Don't worry."  
  
"Unless they insult us first, that is," Celylith added, glaring darkly at the smaller beings.  
  
"Diplomatic," the young ranger shot both of them a warning look. "And I mean diplomatic. You are nobility, don't forget that."  
  
"Oh," Legolas whispered dryly out of the corner of his mouth. "I will _certainly_ not forget that, my friend." They drew closer to the dwarves and were almost in calling distance now. He gave them a bright, insincere smile and mumbled, "You're dead, ranger. I will never let you forget this, never…"  
  
One of the dwarves, with a long, bushy blonde beard and dark, beady gave them a look that rather clearly stated that he would prefer them to turn around and leave again.  
"Halt! What do you want here?"  
  
Aragorn wondered briefly why it was that every other person seemed to ask them that, but he quickly dismounted before his two companions could retort something.  
  
"My name is Strider, a Ranger of the North, at your service."  
  
The dwarf either didn't appreciate his attempts at courtesy or was too busy staring at the two elves that had stayed on horseback and returned the glare in kind. He folded his arms across his barrel-like chest and returned his eyes to the man.  
  
"And your companions, ranger?"  
  
Aragorn willed his friends to get off their animals and to introduce themselves, but they just kept sitting motionlessly on their horses, towering over the smaller beings and apparently not intending to change that behaviour in the near future. He turned back to them with a small exasperated sigh and waved his hand slightly into their direction, giving both of them the _look_ for good measure.  
  
"These are the Lords Legolas and Celylith of Mirkwood, here to ask your king for an audience."  
  
Both of the elves stiffened visibly at the word "ask", but Aragorn ignored them and looked seriously at the dwarves.  
  
Another dwarf, this one with a beard and eyes of the colour of coals, spoke up, recognition on his face.  
"Legolas?" he asked, staring intently at the fair haired elf that looked at him as if he was a particularly disgusting little animal. "Isn't that their prince?" He narrowed his eyes and looked even harder at the elven prince. "Yes, I remember you, boy, you even look like Thranduil."  
  
Legolas' eyes lit up angrily when he heard the dwarf's disrespectful tone of voice, but before he could say anything, he was interrupted by the blonde dwarf.  
  
"By _Mahal_, you're right, Frerin!" he cocked his head to the side. "He even looks like that old, greedy…"  
  
Both the elves had gracefully jumped off their horses before he had even said more than ten words, but Aragorn was even faster. Before the dwarf could even blink, a long, slightly curved elvish dagger was placed at his throat, and he looked into a pair of steely grey eyes that reminded him of freshly forged mithril.  
  
"Do not do that, please," the young ranger said quietly. "You would be well advised not to insult King Thranduil in my presence again, Master Dwarf. I do not take kindly to rudeness, especially rudeness against my friends. Understood?"  
  
The other four dwarves had already drawn their weapons, brandishing their axes and knifes, and things might have gone ill between the two groups if the blonde dwarf had not suddenly begun to laugh loudly. He turned his head to the side, dark eyes twinkling merrily under the rim of his helmet.  
  
"That was quick, boy," he chuckled amusedly. "Not bad, not bad at all. Yes, Master Human, I understand."  
  
Aragorn raised an eyebrow but released the smaller being, returning the knife to its sheath. He stepped back slightly as the dwarves slowly lowered their axes and shot the two irate elves a warning glare.  
  
"As I was saying, Master Dwarf, we are seeking an audience with King Dáin. Will you announce us?"  
  
"Why should he?" Frerin asked, glowering at them. "You nearly killed him a minute ago!"  
  
"Had Strider wanted to kill him, then he would be dead already, dwarf," Legolas announced, voice still taut with anger.  
  
"Enough!" Aragorn said tensely. "We are not here to insult each other! Please, Master Dwarf, let us speak to your king. It is a matter that concerns him closely as well."  
  
"No, Frór," Frerin shook his head.  
  
The blonde dwarf looked at all three of them closely, eyes darkening slightly when he looked at the still furious faces of the elves.  
"Alright," he finally said, nodding at Aragorn. "I will ask if he will receive you. Come with me."  
  
Frór pushed his way through his warriors that stepped aside rather unwillingly, looking darkly at the elves, and walked down the paved road that led into the heart of the mountain.  
  
Legolas looked at his human friend, beckoning him to precede them.  
"After you, Strider," he whispered in the man's ear. "You got us into this, so you can go first."  
  
"Thank you very much," Aragorn replied out of the corner of his mouth. "This is going to be a fascinating experience, believe me."  
  
Celylith raised an eyebrow as he followed his friends, exchanging heated glares with the dwarves that watched their passage.  
  
"Oh, I am very sure about that, Estel. What else would it be?"  
  
  
  
  
  
**TBC...**  
  
  
  
  
  
_dúnadan - 'Man of the West', ranger  
naugrim - 'Stunted People', dwarves  
eldar - 'People of the Stars', elves  
mellonamin - my friend  
naeg_ _- pain  
baul - torment  
amarth - doom_  
_agar - blood_  
_Mahal - the dwarves' name for the Vala Aulë, their creator  
_  
  
  
  
  
**Yay! They've reached Erebor, and things can only get interesting from now on... Okay, folks, I hope I'll be able to post on the 2nd or 3rd of August, and more frequently from then on, but I really can not make any promises, I'm sorry. The next time we 'see' each other I will write eating a nice piece of toast with Marmite (Eek! As if! *g*), let's hope that the weather is not too dreadful!** **I would be extremely happy about a review as always, so, please? Reviews? Pretty please?? They do help me to post frequently and give me many lovely ideas....  
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**Additional A/N:  
  
Maranwe - **That's okay, better late than never! *g* Anyway, it's really not your fault, because FF.net really screws up all the time... *evil grin* I agree, I like that mixture as well! I don't get it either why they don't like each other... *g* So, you're another of these people that are looking forward to pain and stuff? Well, we get LOTS of that, all in chapter 18/19/20/21 and perhaps more, that's all I have written yet. So you just have to wait a bit longer... Glad you like the length, btw, it's just that I can't control it, that is what bugs me.  
**Amelie** - Well, FF.net does that all the time when the chapter has just been posted. I didn't fix anything, not that I can anyway, so all you can do is try again a bit later. You can try to add 'a/' to the link, e.g. '....&chapter=16a/', that helps most of the time, not always though... *g* And I really would not advise to try the hairbrush-thing on your sister, unless you have a death wish or something... *fidgets* Uhm, I can't tell you what happens to whom or who will hurt whom, you will just have to wait a bit, it's all in chapter 18/19/20/21. *shakes head* God, I'm sick. And sorry, I can't give you a Legolas clone, I can only clone my OCs. So I can offer you a Nólad or a Celylith... *g* Thanks btw, I have found one or two typos, but could you in the future point them out to me? It was a conincidence I found them, and it takes ages to search for them... But I really appreciate it! Thanks!   
**Shadow Warrior - ***nods sadly* FF-net hates me. Everytime I update something horrible happens that prevents people from reviewing. It's a curse! LOL, so Aragorn is a sloth-bear-cub? That's definitely an interesting idea... I hope your new job is okay and not too exhauting, thanks a lot for reviewing!  
**Tapetum Lucidum** - 'Everybody needs a crazed fan club'? LOL!! That was really funny! You could say that... And I am quite sure that you would let Legolas of Mirkwood into your room... *grins broadly* Oh, and don't worry, Aragorn can be quite convincing! Don't tell me, I KNOW that Johnny is hot! He is always hot! *drools* And I will definitely tell Hannibal that, even though I don't think that he will be too inclined to listen... *g*  
**Aron** - I agree, whatever they do, they're doomed, if at home or in the Wilds... *g* Thanks for all your kind words... *blushes* And you have to admit, it would be unfair if only Legolas had a crazed fan that wants to kill him, Aragorn needs one too! And I never said it would look good for them, did I? *evil laugh*  
**TrustingFriendship** - LOL, well, I was most definitely in withdrawal! THREE DAYS! That's inhuman, that's what it is... *g* Well, I guess that most people think that the elves will be taken care of as well, so there is no need to be afraid of them. That's what they think, you are right, they're morons, all of them... Oh, and the blackmail works most of the time, I'm evil, that's why... *g*  
**Firnsarnien** - NOTHING FF.net does could ever surprise me. It's evil, plain and simple, and its only aim in life is to annoy us. *nods* So Gwaihir has a chain mail flak jacket? Uhm, what do you say about patriot missiles? Or something like that? Huh? *g* And my feet were NOT smelly! Not at all! I just washed them last month, how can you say such a thing... *rants on* And yes, it is written and I did consider not killing him. I won't say what I've decided to do, but I've considered it, okay? Okay, I hope the prozac was strong enough, here's the next bit!  
**Strider's Girl** - Glad you like Aragorn's little revenge, though I have the distinct feeling that Legolas wasn't that pleased... *g* Well, I don't know how long you'll be away, but I fear there won't be that much to read for you since I barely have time to update either... Hope you have lots of fun and thanks for the review!   
**Imbefaniel** - *blinks* Well, if you're an elf as you insit all the time, he would have to be one too, that is if your mother isn't elven... *g* *winces* I know what you mean with writer's block, I had a very small one myself. BUt I forced myself to keep writing, and got over it eventually... But it was really horrible!**  
Halo - ***g* That would be great indeed! I'll email you as soon as I can when I get there, I would love to see you again! *g* Great you like the brush bit, but then agian, you would of course, you're evil... And, really guys, I never said I was actually GOING to kill him! I just said I wanted to kill him! That's not the same! Not exactly, anyway... *evil grin*  
**Leggylover03** - *shakes head* I won't even answer that. You're really insane and - yes, I'm going to say it yet again - bloodthirsty! I really don't enjoy writing torture scenes, but you guys are just... *shakes head again* Here's your next chapter, though you'll have to wait for Estel pain a bit...  
**Mer** - *blushes* Oh ... thank you! Great you like it so much, though I'll admit that Legolas probably didn't think it overly amusing... *g* *sits open-mouthed* You will follow my lead? My God, I don't believe it, a reader that actually accepts my authority! Well, that was a shock, but thank you, I guess... *shakes head*  
**A Person** - I like your screenname more and more, did I ever tell you that? *g* Yeah, I agree, I don't think Legolas would believe you if you told him that 60 years in the future he will befriend a dwarf and name him Elf-friend... *g* But that's fate, isn't it? Thanks for your reviews!  
**CrazyLOTRfan - ***furrows brow* That was a cliffy? Really? I didn't see it there, but then THIS one is a cliffy too... *shrugs* Whatever you say. Oh and you're right, Gimli should be at the Lonely Mountain right now with his father Gloin, but no, they won't meet each other, since I think it says in FotR that Legolas and Gimli had never met each other - I know, it didn't say they didn't either, but I didn't want to mess with canon... Uhm, that's okay, really... *pats her back carefully* I will miss you though! Hope you have lots of fun!  
**Critternut** - Uhm, so you need to get mad to play football? That's interesting - and sounds rather dangerous... *g* Oh, and I agree, FF.net IS evil - very evil to be precise... I hope this update was soon enough? *huggles her* Thanks for your reviews!  
**NaughtyNat -** *nods gravely* I know! It's too long already, and I'm nowhere near finished yet... Uhm, chapter 18... To be honest, it's not _that_ bad, somehow people have decided that it will be, don't ask me why... *shrugs innocently* I really don't know. Great to see you again! *huggles* Thanks for reviewing!  
**Lina - **LINA!!!! *huggles her* Of course I missed you! So you were on vacation? I hope you and Zam had lots of fun - I don't doubt that for a second, actually... *g* LOL! Little eyebrows that wave at you? Lina, I really think you need professional help, it would be best for all of us, trust me! So you're a 'Hobbit that can't seduce a man taller than you'? Uhm, that does not bode well for poor Frodo and his friends... Well, and Celylith's fate is decided, I'm afraid. It's written, done, over, whatever. I'm not telling whether he will live or die though... *runs away cackling evilly* Oh, and I'm sure Will and Jack will get used to you and your Rohirrim - just give them time, it's not that easy to adjust to a totally new life... *huggles Lina again* Great to see you! I really missed you!  
**Aratfeniel - **Well, I think I'll survive the humming. Perhaps. If not, it will be YOUR fault! And you might be right there, I think Legolas and Aragorn will kill each other - if they ever get the opportunity for it, that is... *g* Uhm, the bold text? You do it using Dreamweaver or something similar. I for my part am using the Netscape Composer which you can download for free, but only because I'm too stupid to use the Dreamweaver... *sighs*   
**LadySandrilene** - Yeah, poor Aragorn, he doesn't know what fate has in store for him yet... *g* Hmm, Legolas' revenge on Aragorn? I hate to disappoint you, but I really don't think they will have much opportunity - or inclination - for things like that, since... *shuts herself up* Not telling, sorry, you'll have to wait! *evil laugh* God, I love being evil... Wohoo! I just got your mail, thanks! I love feedback no matter by what way I get it, so emails are almost as good as reviews! Well, I guess FF.net screwes with everybody's stories, not just mine, although I DO think that it hates me personally... There's nothing I can do either, I'm afraid, except glare with you which is fun, even though it might not be too effective. *g* And you're most welcome, I love writing friendship fics! *huggles back* Thanks so much for all your feedback!  
**Coreinha** - Uhm, _I_ frighten _you_? How, if I may ask? What did I do? *g* Well, Legolas positively asked for something like that, don't you think? Prissy wood-elf that he is... *g* You want a dwarf maiden? Well, since I I couldn't make up my mind whether they have beards or not there won't be any in here, but lots of male dwarves! I hope that's good enough? *g*  
**Grumpy** - 'This is entertainment'? Well, thank you! We aim to please... *g* Thanks for the review!  
**XsilicaX** - *g* Yeah, Aragorn just might do that... *g* I certainly would! And really, I'm hurt! I would never pretend to have killed Celylith just to torment you! I will just keep telling you that I MIGHT have... *evil cackle* Well, I really do hope that the weather improves, but actually I could use a little rain right about now, I'm beginning to resemble a snake since my sunburnt skin is beginning to come off... *grimaces* I hate that... Nili the snake...*g*  
**Alilacia - **Elrond's snort is contagious? Oh my God, we will soon have a plague on our hands if nothing is done... *looks horrified at mere thought* Yup, they're indeed going to see the dwarves, and believe me, Legolas and Celylith are none too pleased about it either... *g* And I will go see the film as soon as it comes out in England! *bouncing* I'm really looking forward to it by now.. *g*  
**Marbienl** - FF.net really hates you, huh? *sympathetic smile* It doesn't even allow you to submit reviews, you're really bad off... *g* Well, if you still picture Thranduil as a dwarf with beard and all, I really think that you should seek professional help. I'm rather sure that that is NOT normal... *g* Yes, maybe Legolas needs a baby eagle as a pet, I'm sure it would be very useful, just like Hedwig in HP... *g* LOL at the horses! I'm sure they would be something like that... *g* And yes, I guess Estel's something like an endangered species, and if he doesn't watch out, he will become extinct rather soon... *evil grin* NO!!! *yells* He is fine, for crying out loud! Peachy! I will indeed tell you when he's not fine, okay? Jeez... *walks away, muttering under her breath* Well, and I don't worry about Anca - if she pops up in my bathroom, she will definitely regret it... *g* And as I said, it's all written and you'll have to wait and see...  
**Fliewatuet - ***looks at innocent-looking twins* I have no idea either who taught him such evil tricks... Ah, and let's just say that no, Legolas' and Celylith's presence doesn't exactly make things easier. *shakes her head* Arrogant elves, them... *g* And yes, I'll admit that there wasn't that much action in the last few chapters, but there's lots and lots coming up in the near future, believe me! *evil laugh* Oh yes, quite a lot...  
**Sirithiliel** - *nods* FF.net is the Devil impersonated. I don't know either how it manages to be so evil, but it does, somehow. Great you liked the chapter, and I hope you'll like this one as well! Thanks for the review!  
**ManuKu** - Sag ich doch die ganze Zeit! Dummer blonder Waldelb! *kicher* Na ja, und es hat ja auch noch nie jemand behauptet, dass Legolas besonders klug sei, ne? *g* Uhm, Legolas verfolgt dich mit einer ueberdimensionalen Haarbuerste? Das ist ziemlich beunruhigend, wenn du mich fragst, hast du vielleicht das eine oder andere anregende Mittelchen genommen? Uhm, Kapitel 18? Ich weiss auch gar nicht, wie dich sich alle hochgeschaukelt haben, eigentlich sind 19/20 viel schlimmer... *fieses Grinsen* Oh, und seid immer bei mir willkommen! Falls ihr mal in Berlin sein solltet, sagt ruhig Bescheid, es geht doch nichts ueber ein nettes Lynchen unter Freunden... *g*   
**Salara - **LOL, Spatzen sind in der Tat gefiederte Verbrecher! Perfide kleine Tierchen, schlimmer als jeder Balrog! Und ich muss die natuerlich zustimmen - das mit dem Schatz kann gar nicht gutgehen. Ich frage mich da immer, ob die Fieslinge denn nicht "Indiana Jones I, II oder III" gesehen haben? Solche Schaettze bringen nichts als Schererien... Und ob du's glaubst oder nicht, ich huete gerade einen echten 'bunny', naemlich ein Zwergkaninchen - am Anfang hatte ich ja etwas Angst, aber ich habe festgestellt, dass es keinen uebermaessigen Einfluss auf die Geschicht nimmt, Gott sei Dank...  
**TigerLily713** - *winces* Don't say it! You said the 'S'-word! It's an evil word, I really don't want to be reminded of ma studies and Hannibal - but thanks nonetheless!**  
Reginabean** - So have I - I was about 7 years old, and because the brush got stuck, I decided that it was a good idea to cut it out. It took quite a long time to actually grow back... *g* And I would say that dwarves and elves are lots of fun, but oddly enough they don't think so... I wonder why? I'm glad you got over Nólad though. After all, he was only a fictional character... *winks*  
**Alex Mistress Squirrel** - *hangs head* Uhm, to be perfectly honest: No. I have never seen Winny the Pooh, I just never liked it. When I was a child I liked things with a bit more action in them, so to speak... And yes, I think Estel will indeed get into trouble, quite a lot actually... *g* And I couldn't have Aragorn dye Legolas' hair green - he already did that to Elladan, it would have been unoriginal on my part. *shrugs* Ah well.  
**Kaeera - ***g* Schoen, dass es die Spass gemacht hat, das ist ja mehr oder weniger der Sinn der Sache, nech? Aha! Wusst' ich's doch! Deine Plaene sind aufgedeckt, boeses Maedchen, es gibt kein Entkommen! Ergib dich! *schuettelt Kopf* Okay, ich werde langsam sonderlich auf meine alten Tage. Tja, so eine FF koennte man natuerlich schreiben, WENN man Zeit haette. Dummerweise habe ich ja einer nicht naeher zu bestimmenden Person versprochen, bis November eine kurze Zwillings-Geschichte zu schreiben... Wer das sein kann? Keine Ahnung, weiss ich auch nicht... *g*  
**Stacee Phelps** - You'll send Tinlaure's cat's pet warg, Keekee after me? Well, to be honest, I haven't got the slightest idea what you're talking about, but it does sound rather uncomfortable, so here's the next bit! I hope you'll like it! Thanks a lot for your reviews!  
**Bec** - Hmm, the twins... No, I'm afraid that they won't make another appearance. I would have liked to include them, but it's already too long as it is, so bringing in the twins again would make it even worse. But don't worry, I think they'll be in the next story! Great you like it, thanks so much for your kind words!  
**Nikara - **Yeah, if poor Estel only knew what would happen to him - he would probably hide somewhere, never to be seen again... *g* I hope this is soon enough? And believe me, everybody's rather annoyed in the end... *evil grin*  
**Zam - **Zam!!! *huggles her* You! I missed you! I really did! Life was dull and boring without you and your orc horde! And yes, Celylith is still alive, indeed. *evil grin* It's just a matter of time though... Oops! Did I just say that? I didn't, did I? *g* Eek! You're chewing on Legolas's sleeves? Tell Lina to tell Estel to make you an orc toasty, that is disgusting... Yeah well, I'll admit that Legolas is not really liking the dwarves much, just try to ignore his comments, will you? He's just jealous because he can't grow a beard, that's all... *g* I knew you would like the dwarves, and to be honest I wrote it partly because of you... *g* And because I love writing elf-dwarf-scenes... *huggles Zam* I really missed you and Lina! Great to have you back!  
**Helen T** - As I said, English is just fine! I like the language - kind of, that is. I mean, it could never rival Ancient Greek, but then again I guess that's only my opinion... *evil grin* Oh yes, they're in trouble again, and in more than they would have ever thought, too... *g* And I don't think _I_ have to get Aragorn into trouble, he does that all by himself...  
  
**Thank you all so much for your great reviews! They help me very much, besides, I am addicted to them, so... *g***  
  
  



	18. Where Dark Things Sleep

Disclaimer: For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.  


  
A/N:  


First: I have no idea where the bold text disappeared to, I will try to find out tomorrow and replace it, right now it's too late though. I'll replace this as soon as possible, sorry for the non-bold-version!  
  


*waves cheerfully* Hi!!!  


Well, I'm back and sorry for the seven days I couldn't post, but believe me, there was absolutely no way. The last week's been more chaotic than anything else I've ever seen, and believe me, that means quite a lot, especially with moving in and out of flats and all that... But I got my laptop *huggles it* - Yay Nili! It's SO beautiful - and very useful too. So all I had to do was find the right adapter, install AOL (which I loathe, but the things I do to be online so I can update for you guys! *g*) and voilà! I'm back! *grin*  


I have to admit that I won't update as frequently as I have been before all this, but don't worry, it won't be longer than six or seven days in between chapters, I think. I am quite busy here in the wonderfully sunny Southern England (yes, you did read that correctly! Sunshine in England, will wonders never cease... *g*) and don't have much time to write - and there's still that college paper I have to finish... Oh, and yesterday I went to a Robbie Williams concert in Knebsworth, there were 125.000 people there! Can you believe that? It was wonderful, but I very much felt like a Rohir in Helm's Deep... *g*  


*scratches head* Okay, that was _way_ off topic, must be the English food, it makes me even weirder than I am anyway. I knew it was a bad idea to eat that pork pie... *evil grin*  


  
Very well, that was more than enough ranting, on to the story! Finally, chapter 18 is here, and I really don't know who started the whole 'Oh-my-God-it's-such-an-evil-action-loaded-chapter' thing. There's not that much action in it, but it IS a cliffy, I freely admit that... *g* Plus, we have lots of dwarves, which is always good *huggles her little dwarves*, Estel meets some old friends, and Celylith .... *trails off* Ah well, I think I'll be going now... *grins evilly*  


Have fun and review, please!  


  


* * *

  


Chapter 18  


  
The three of them followed their guide mutely, Aragorn for his part very glad that there were torches in finely carved stone halters every few metres. He didn't possess the elven ability of being able to see in the dark as perfectly as in the light of day, and even the dwarf that was leading them seemed to have no problems whatsoever finding his way in the darkness.

'Wonderful,' he thought somewhat grumpily, beginning to doubt himself that coming here had been a good idea, 'And once again it's only us lucky humans. Even hobbits have better eyesight than we do.'

Pushing these rather childish musing to the back of his mind, he once again concentrated on not stumbling and following Frór deeper inside the mountain. Aragorn needn't look at his elven companions' faces to see the discomfort on their features. Elves were never happy when they had to leave the wide openness of nature, and entering a cave was for most of them their worst nightmare. That would be, right after entering a cave with a dwarf as their guide, he corrected himself quickly with a small smile.

The smaller being led them swiftly down the smooth, carefully paved road, and the young ranger barely had the time to look at the beautiful carvings and almost elegant looking runes that adorned the walls. The River Running flowed through a channel to their left, running down the deep, straight gully noisily and disappearing behind them, flowing down into the valley at the Front Gates and growing to the mighty stream that entered the Long Lake far to the South.

After some time they reached something that looked like a dead-end on first glance. In front of them was a rock wall, and from a dark opening the Celduin sprang forth. Legolas glanced at the water, wondering how interesting it was that he had never wanted to see this and even more interesting that he didn't feel good either now that he had in fact seen it, when the dwarf turned and disappeared through an opening to their right. 

Sighing inwardly and giving Aragorn a glare that would even have made his father proud, the elven prince followed the smaller being. Now they were beginning to climb countless steps that led up and down and then up again, and they passed through more doors than he cared to count. 

The farther they walked the more dwarves were beginning to appear, and while the atmosphere was not openly hostile, there was something in the air that very clearly said that they were anything but welcome here.

After climbing some more steps and beginning to feel distinctly like a chamois, Legolas finally stopped when Frór halted in front of an open door and beckoned them to enter. The fair haired elf asked himself briefly if he wanted to lure them into a trap of some kind, but then quickly came to the conclusion that that would be highly unnecessary since they were already deep under the Lonely Mountain and surrounded by dwarves, so there would be absolutely no need for deception or traps.

He sighed inwardly and brushed past the dwarf, simultaneously giving his human friend another cold look that promised dismemberment or something similarly uncomfortable in the near future. With some satisfaction, far more than he should really feel, he saw that Aragorn cringed slightly under his glare. 

'Finally!' he thought, this small victory lightening his black mood a bit, 'If I keep practicing, I will be just as threatening as _ada_.'

He quickly shook his head and asked himself where that rather childish thought had come from, and raised his head to look at the room they had just entered. It was a small cave, not much bigger than fifty square feet, but the walls were adorned with carvings and tapestries. A small table sat on the one side, surrounded by benches, a small bright lamp sitting on the desktop.

"You will wait here," Frór stated gruffly. "I will see if the king will receive you." He pointed at two dwarves that looked a good deal younger than him and who eyed the elves with a mixture of awe and confused hostility. "Should you need anything, call for them. They'll be outside." 

'Wonderful,' Legolas thought, 'Now we are being guarded as well.'

He turned to Celylith, who looked even unhappier than he himself felt, something which he had thought impossible. His elven friend gave him a wretched look that almost caused Legolas to laugh loudly. Celylith hated caves even more than he did, and that he had followed at all could only be put down to his loyalty to his prince.

"We will," Aragorn assured the blonde dwarf. "Thank you for your help, Master Dwarf."

Frór nodded and disappeared with the other two dwarves out of the door, leaving it slightly ajar, probably to emphasise that they weren't prisoners here.

"You should become a diplomat, Estel," Legolas said softly in Elvish, turning to the ranger that had sat down on one of the benches. "It's a shame that you won't live long enough to actually do it."

"I won't?" Aragorn asked in the same language, arching a dark eyebrow while at the same time eyeing the walls of the small cave. 

'Calm down,' he told himself firmly, 'They are not closing in on you, they are not closing in on you…'

"No, ranger," Celylith assured him, sending him a look so dark that it would have made his liege proud, "Unfortunately, you will not. You will suffer an inexplicable, horrible, painful, deathly accident as soon as we get out of here. If we get out of here."

"Oh, we will," Legolas stated darkly, sitting down as well. "And be it only to make sure that he pays for this idea, Elbereth help me!"

"Think positive," Aragorn advised them, asking himself why in all the world Frór had to put them into the smallest cave he could find. He hated caves, he really, really loathed them… "He will be back soon and then we will either be allowed to see Dáin or will be escorted back out of these caves. Either way, we win."

"If you see it that way," Celylith muttered under his breath, giving the cave walls a nervous look.

Legolas gave him a small smile, knowing perfectly well how uncomfortable the silver haired elf felt. This was reminding him strongly of the days he had spent wandering with the twin sons of Elrond through the vast cave systems of Nogrodrim, and these were memories he really did not want to relive. 

'Well,' he thought, trying to heed Aragorn's advice and think positive, 'At least there are no goblins here.'

No, he decided after a second, there were no goblins, but rather a lot of dwarves, and right now he was undecided what was worse: Being stuck in a cave with goblins or being stuck in a cave with dwarves. Probably the latter, he thought a little bit later, you were at least allowed to kill goblins without earning yourself disapproving glances.

He turned to Aragorn to share his new found opinion with him, and was surprised to find the young man's eyes closed and his face pale against the dark fabric of his coat. He quickly inched closer to the human, carefully putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Estel? Are you alright? Strider?!"  


The young ranger's eyes shot open with a start and he smiled sheepishly at the concerned face of the elven prince.  
"Yes. I'm fine."

Legolas traded an incredulous look with Celylith who had stepped closer and crouched down in front of them.  
"Do we really have to have this conversation again, reckless human?"

Aragorn shook his head slightly, his smile fading a little.  
"I just don't like small caves, that's all. Caves in general are alright, but I can't stand small ones."

Celylith frowned. He had never been inside the cave Aragorn had been held captive in and he was rather sure that he hadn't missed anything, but judging by what Legolas had told him about it, it had been dark, dank, unpleasant and very, very small. It was a miracle that he had even survived as long as he had, although Legolas had assured him that it had been a near thing. 

They weren't sure whether it was because of his life as a ranger, the fact that he had grown up in Imladris or his elven blood, but the darkness and cramped space on top of his injuries had very nearly killed him then. No wonder he was uncomfortable with small caves.

"I don't like them overly much either, Estel," he said, trying to get the ranger's mind off the situation at hand. "Did I ever tell you about the one time Legolas and I got trapped in that small cave we were spending the night in when the snowstorm surprised us?"

The young man smiled again, silver eyes brightening.  
"Now, I do not think so."

"You won't either," Legolas interjected quickly. "It is not an episode I want to relive, and to be honest, I thought you had already forgotten about it."

"Forgotten?" Celylith asked, grinning at his prince. "Nay, my lord, there are things I will never forget, and your face when you thought that the walls were coming closer is one of them!"

Aragorn began chuckling softly as he imagined that particular sight, and Legolas glared at the other elf.  
"We were barely 500 years old! We were mere elflings!"

"Yes, but I didn't panic as you did."

"I didn't panic!" Legolas glared at the silver haired elf.

Celylith's grin broadened even further.  
"No, my lord, of course not."

"I did _not_ panic!"  


"Of course not, my prince."

"I knew that the walls weren't coming closer!"

"Of course you did, my prince."

"I was perfectly aware that there was no-one else in the cave!"

"Of course you were, my prince."

Legolas' glare became even fiercer, and by now Aragorn was doing his best not to howl with laughter.  
"That does sound interesting, my friend! One of these days you will have to tell me more about that…"

Before the elven prince could say anything – judging by the look on his face something rather uncomplimentary – the door opened and Frór stepped in, trailed by the two younger dwarves they had seen earlier.

"King Dáin will see you now," he informed them, giving the two elves a look that clearly said that he hoped they were somewhere else. He gave Aragorn a quizzical look under bushy brows. "Keep an eye on them, boy."

Legolas and Celylith glared at the small being who didn't seem to be too impressed by their combined elven stare but turned on his heel and quickly walked down the hallway. The three of them followed him, down the corridor and up even more steps until they stopped in front of large, wooden doors that were adorned with some of the most beautiful carvings Aragorn had ever seen.

Frór lifted a fist and banged loudly on the doors, and opened them after an invitation from inside. The wings were thrown open, and they entered a great hall. Benches, chairs and long tables covered the floor, fine carvings and long tapestries adorned the walls as well as dwarven axes that hung over some tables on the walls. A grey light lit the room, coming from above through an invisible opening in the ceiling. At the end of the long walkway there stood a seat, and on top of it sat Dáin Ironfoot, son of Náin son of Grór, King under the Mountain and King of Durin's Folk, surrounded by his friends and advisors. 

Frór bowed slightly at the door and led the elves and the ranger down the aisle, shooting a quick look behind to make sure that they were really following.

Legolas took a deep breath and began to walk down the walkway, keeping his face carefully neutral. Celylith was walking to his left and Aragorn to his right, and even with the presence of his friends close by he was secretly wishing to be anywhere but here.

"Remember," Aragorn whispered very softly a few seconds before they reached the seat of the dwarven king, "Diplomatic. Be diplomatic. No insulting."

The elven prince resisted the urge to scowl at the man. He was a prince, in Ilúvatar's name, and he had learned from a very early age to keep his emotions in check and smile even at people he secretly loathed. Granted, he had never been very good at it, but his father had drilled enough etiquette and royal behaviour into him to make sure that Legolas would certainly not embarrass his house by insulting the King of Erebor.

In front of the king and his entourage Frór stopped and bowed again, and Aragorn had to bite down on his lip when he saw that the dwarf had trouble righting himself because of all the armour he was wearing.  
"Sire, these are the three that requested an audience with you. They said it was urgent."

Dáin got up from his seat and studied the three beings in front of him. Aragorn returned the look steadily, and when he looked into the dark, intelligent eyes of the king, he found it hard to believe that the dwarves were making such things up to start a war with Dale.

The dwarven king gave a small bow, greetings his guests politely.  
"Dáin son of Náin, at your service."

Aragorn returned the bow, remembering the dwarven greeting the thirteen dwarves that had come through Rivendell had taught him more than twelve years ago.  
"Strider, Ranger of the North, at yours and your family's."

He turned to his silent elven companions.  
"These are…"

"Legolas and Celylith of Mirkwood, your Majesty," the elven prince spoke softly and gave a slight bow as well. Both Aragorn and Dáin noticed that Legolas had said nothing about "service", but the introductions had been polite enough.

The dwarven king looked at the tall elves in surprise.  
"What earns me the honour of your visit, Highness?" he asked, and Aragorn thought that there was remarkably little irony in his voice. "Is something amiss in your father's realm?"

"No, my lord," Legolas answered politely, looking hard at the dwarf. "But in yours, it appears."  
  
A dwarf behind the king shook his head unwillingly.  
"Why would an elf care for that?"

The elven prince glowered at the dwarf. Elbereth, he was trying to be polite, and how were these confounded dwarves thanking him?  


"Enough, Gloin," Dáin turned slightly and looked at the other dwarf. "Prince Legolas and his companions are guests in my halls."

Gloin shifted slightly and nodded, but the look with which he graced the elves did not become any friendlier. Dáin turned back to the elves and the ranger, spreading his arms.

"Come, my guests, let us sit down for this business. I trust you are hungry?"

"Yes," Aragorn nodded, giving the king a small smile.

"No," Legolas and Celylith stated simultaneously, and the young ranger gave both of them the _look_.

"Yes, your Majesty, we are, thank you very much," Aragorn repeated, looking hard at the elves.

Dáin nodded slightly, and soon they were all sitting around a table laden with food and drink. Dwarven food and dwarven drink, Celylith noted darkly, taking a mouthful of mead and very nearly spitting it out again. He would get Aragorn for this, he decided quickly, trading a very dark look with his elven friend, having to visit the dwarves was bad enough, but having to eat their food as well…

"So," the dwarven king began, almost emptying the tankard he held in a single gulp, "How do you like my hall?"

Before the elves could say anything - and that was probably a good thing as well, since the most prominent words on Legolas' mind right now were "dark", "cave" and "dank" – Aragorn gave an appreciative nod and turned to the king, taking a sip of mead himself.

"This is the great chamber of Thrór, your great-uncle, is it not?"

Dáin nodded, surprise written on his face.  
"Yes, ranger, it is. How did you know?"

Aragorn smiled thinly.  
"Your cousin Thorin talked about this place a lot."

The dwarf's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets.  
"You knew Thorin Oakenshield? How is that possible? You are far too young for that, he has been dead for twelve years now!"

Legolas had to bite back a grin while he was trying to decide if any of this food was actually edible. Dáin was beginning to grow on him, he was telling Aragorn the exact same thing all the time.

"Yes, I did. I was but ten years old when he and his thirteen companions stopped at Rivendell, at the house of Elrond. I grew up there."

"That was you?" another dwarf spoke up, looking at the young man intently. "You were that little boy that was begging us to teach you our speech and tell you stories? What was the name again … Eztil … Erdel …"

"Estel," Aragorn said with a smile, ignoring the faces of his elven companions that were very close to grinning now. "Yes, Nori, that was me."

"Well, I will be damned!" the elderly dwarf exclaimed and grabbed the ranger's hand, shaking it enthusiastically. "You have grown, Estel!"

Before Aragorn could reply anything to this, a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snicker sounded from the two elves' direction, and he turned into their direction, glaring at them darkly.

"It is always a pleasure to see old friends, Nori," he assured the dwarf. "So the others stayed here as well?"

"Not all of them," Dáin, who had watched the little reunion with a smile shook his head. "Of the thirteen companions, Thorin, Kili and Fili died. Bifur, Bofur and Bombur went to live in the Iron Mountains, claiming that they were too old for building a new home, and Balin, Dwalin and Oin went to reclaim our realm of Khazâd-dum. Only Gloin, Nori, Dori and Ori are still here."

"I see," Aragorn mumbled. "They went to Moria?"

He didn't know why, but even though he had never been to that place, something inside of him shivered at the mere mention of that name.

Dáin nodded solemnly.  
"He insisted on going. He was never one that could stand doing nothing for long."

"A pity," Aragorn shook his head, "I would have very much liked to see him again."

Deep in his heart, he somehow knew that he would never see the friendly dwarf with the white beard and the scarlet hood he had always worn again either. He couldn't explain why he knew that, but he was certain that none of those who had gone to that dark place would ever return.

"Yes," Dáin agreed quietly, "But we all have to do what we have to do." He turned to the two elves. "Which brings me back to you, your Highness. Let me be blunt: Why did you want to talk to me?"

Legolas put down his tankard and sent a quick prayer to Elbereth that he would find the right words and wouldn't make this whole episode worse than it already was.  
"Well, Lord Dáin, we are concerned about things we heard in the town of Dale."

"'We'?" Dáin questioned, narrowing his eyes.

"Mirkwood is concerned," Legolas clarified, an icy expression stealing over his eyes.

"This is not Mirkwood's concern," Gloin once again spoke up.

"Yes it is, Master Dwarf," the elf countered, doing his best to remain civil. "If two of our allies are threatening to make war on each other, it does very well concern us!"

"They provoked us!"

"Enough now!!" Dáin's voice boomed, and Gloin fell silent, still giving the elf dark looks. "Please," the king went on, "Nobody spoke of war here."

Aragorn grimaced. So it was here like it was in Dale, both sides were sliding into a situation they didn't really want to be in.

"Why don't you tell us what happened, my lord Dáin?" he asked, looking at the dwarven king earnestly. "We are only interested in keeping the peace in this part of Wilderland. There has been enough war."

Dáin nodded, leaning back into his chair.  
"You are right, Strider. We have suffered much in the last battle, and I do not wish to go to war for this. But," he said, frowning slightly, "We demand an explanation! There have been dwarves disappearing in the past weeks, and men are disturbing our miners."

"Who disappeared?" Legolas asked, obviously reining in his temper.

"About two months ago, two of my men went to survey the western slopes of the mountain. Since the death of the dragon we have been rebuilding the interior of the mountain, and we have only just found the time to have a look at the exterior. They were meant to do their survey, go to Lake-town to pick up some goods and return here."

The king stopped shortly.  
"They are my nephews. They never came back."

Aragorn felt his heart plummet into his stomach. Wonderful, they weren't only ordinary dwarves, they were the king's nephews, just wonderful…

"They should have come back a long time ago, but they didn't. Strange men are beginning to search our mountainsides and are disturbing our miners. This is not a behaviour befitting an ally!"

There he was right, Celylith thought as he took something that looked like sugared fruit and popped it into his mouth. Even though he was a dwarf Dáin was making sense. For once and as much as a dwarf could, that was.

"Are you so sure that they are Men of Dale?" Aragorn asked carefully.

"Who else should it be? Dale is the only major human settlement North of Lake-town, and…" Dáin fell silent and narrowed his eyes at the ranger. "What are you implying?"

Suppressing a sigh, Aragorn once again began to tell their story about the Lake-men they were looking for, inwardly thinking that he should perhaps get a written version of this so he wouldn't have to recite it all the time. When he had finished, Dáin looked at him questioningly.

"So you think it's them that are causing this trouble? But why are they doing it? What are they looking for?"

The young man gave Legolas a quick look, and when his elven friend nodded hesitatingly, he turned back to the smaller being.  
"They are looking for a treasure, we believe."

"A treasure?" Nori laughed unbelievingly. "Here? They are twelve years too late!"

Aragorn shrugged helplessly.  
"'Tis all we know. It would explain why they are searching your mountain."

"The nerve of them!" Dáin thundered. "Searching _our _mountain for treasure! This is an outrage!" He gave Legolas a dark look. "And your father, King Thranduil, is not interested in this? You expect me to believe that?"

The fair haired elf narrowed his eyes, silver-blue orbs blazing in fury.  
"Careful, your Majesty. You are treading a thin line."

"Are you threatening our king, elf?" Gloin asked in a dangerously low tone of voice, his hand fingering the handle of his axe that lay on the bench next to him.

"I don't need to threaten anyone, dwarf," Legolas retorted, his voice just as icy. "And I will not suffer the name of my king to be spoken in such a manner!"

"Please!" Aragorn brought both his palms down on the wooden desk with a thump. "We did not come here to exchange insults!" He looked at the dwarven king, an exasperated look in his eyes. "King Thranduil does know nothing of this yet, and I would very like to keep it that way. You are right of course, your Majesty." The young man inclined his head. "This is an internal dispute and does not concern the Elves of Mirkwood directly." 

Aragorn ignored the looks Legolas and Celylith gave him and continued.  
"But you have also to admit that this matter could quickly deteriorate and thus become a concern to everyone East of the Misty Mountains. Who has seen these men you spoke of?"

Dáin nodded at Gloin, who looked at him unwillingly and said,

"Some of the younger lads. Unfortunately we cannot ask them right now what exactly they have seen since they have left for the Iron Mountains with Prince Thorin and my son a little more than a week ago."

Legolas would almost have given a sigh of relief. If Gloin was already this bad, then he really didn't want to see what his son was like. Probably just another obnoxious, arrogant, stone-headed dwarf that had eyes only for rocks and metal.

"Is it possible that it were the western slopes they were searching?" Aragorn asked, sudden understanding showing on his face.

"Yes, they searched the western hangs, but we do not know which part exactly," Gloin nodded his head, looking him in the eye. "What are you thinking?"

"I think I know what happened to your nephews, my lord," the young ranger nodded at Dáin.

The dwarven king quickly understood what he meant.  
"You think they found the treasure and talked about it in the company of the wrong people. In Lake-town."

"Yes, your Majesty. I think they didn't watch what they were saying and talked to the people who are currently searching your mountainside. Would that fit your nephews' usual behaviour?"

"Well," Dáin began, shrugging slightly, "They are young, as I said. Young ones tend to be too careless and talkative, especially when they've had an ale or two too much."

Celylith traded a grin with Legolas and gave Aragorn a wicked look. Yes, some things the dwarf was saying were definitely making sense.

The dwarven king looked at the young ranger, looking suddenly old and tired.  
"They are dead then?"

The human shook his dark head, shrugging helplessly.  
"I don't know, I really don't." He looked into Dáin's dark eyes who looked at him beseechingly, begging him to tell him the truth. In a soft voice, he added, "But if they got involved with the people I told you about, the ones that casued the trouble in Lake-town, then I must say that yes, they are most likely dead."

Dáin briefly closed his eyes before opening them again and fixing them on the three tall beings that sat in front of him.   
"Then I will help you find these men. They will regret having brought the wrath of the dwarves down on them, that I swear in Mahal's name!"

Legolas looked at the dwarven king and nodded his head in sudden understanding. The stubbornness and fierce spirit of dwarves was fabled even among his own people, and suddenly he felt almost sorry for the 'Fox's' men.

Almost.  


  


  
A few hours later, dusk was falling when Frór escorted them back to the Front Gate where their horses were still waiting, being watched carefully by half a dozen dwarves that looked as if they were contemplating either killing the animals or running away themselves. Especially Rashwe was receiving many a hateful glare, something that filled Legolas with a wicked sense of pride.

Aragorn bowed slightly to the blonde dwarf.  
"Thank you for all your help, Master Frór, it is greatly appreciated."

Frór looked down on him with a fatherly sparkle in his eyes, no small feat since he was several feet shorter than the young man.

"No need for that, boy," he told the ranger, and for a sudden, irrational moment Aragorn was afraid that the smaller being would try to ruffle his hair. "I'm glad that we're finally doing something about these damned humans – no offence intended," he quickly added.

"None taken," Aragorn assured him and stepped closer to his horse, ignoring the impatient looks his two elven companions shot him. He was looking very much forward to getting away from here as well, but that was no reason to be rude. His father would have his hide if he was rude to someone just because he or she was a dwarf.

"Well," Frór announced, smiling at him from his position at the great wooden doors, "If you have enough of them elves, come to us and have some mead with us, lad! We know how to celebrate, contrary to them." He made a face. "Always drinking wine and eating green stuff, bah!" He took a step forwards and gave Aragorn what was probably supposed to be a friendly slap on the back, but what felt more like a sledgehammer that hit him in the small of the back. "A young one like you needs meat!"

Aragorn mounted his horse quickly before the dwarf could decide to adopt him – after all, he was probably a lot older than him.  
"I will think about it, Master Dwarf," he smiled at the smaller being. "Farewell." 

With a last nod at the dwarves at the entrance, the three of them turned their horses and made their way down the road that led into the valley of Dale. When they were out of the dwarves' earshot, Celylith burst out laughing.

"Valar!" he chuckled, grinning evilly at the young ranger. "It appears that you have just found a second foster father, Strider! If you are not careful, you will be collecting them like you are your names!"

"He might be right there, _mellonamin_," Legolas began to grin as well, the lines around the corners of his mouth and between his brows smoothing again. He took a deep breath of the crisp mountain air and eyed his snowy surroundings happily. He really, really, really didn't like caves, not to mention caves that were populated by dwarves. "I really think he wanted to ruffle your hair for a moment."

"Go on, laugh," Aragorn mumbled grumpily, giving both of them dark looks, not admitting that that was the exact same thing he himself had though a few moments ago. He turned to the fair haired elf while their horses were carrying them down the path. "At least I didn't very nearly start a war with Erebor."

Legolas raised an eyebrow, giving his friend the most arrogant look he could manage right now.  
"I didn't try to."

"But you still did!" the man exclaimed. "Really, Legolas, I thought you had more sense than that! You and Gloin very nearly latched onto each other's throats, by Elbereth's stars!"

"That dwarf was obnoxious," Celylith tried to defend his friend.

"Yes, I will admit that he was," Aragorn nodded his head, still glaring at the elven prince. "But that was no reason to rise to his bait!"

"I didn't 'rise to his bait', human," Legolas informed the ranger. "Had I risen to his bait, he would be dead now." After a second, he added, "And I would feel a lot better."

Celylith began to grin, but quickly stopped when Aragorn gave him the _look_. He fell silent, once again contemplating that he really would have to have a talk with Lord Elrond in the near future. No, he resolved after a second, he would send him a letter, that was what he would do. Letters were a lot safer than personal meetings, especially if the Lord of Imladris ever found out about all this…

"Well, they did agree to help us and not start any hostilities, did they not?" he asked rhetorically, trying to point out the positive things. "That is something, isn't it?" After a moment he added, "Oh, and remind me to kill you at an appropriate time, will you, Estel?"

The ranger shook his head, eyes dancing with amusement.  
"Are you still angry about the visit? We achieved a lot!"

"Yes, _dúnadan_," Legolas grumbled. "And were almost killed, insulted and nearly poisoned in the process."

"Poisoned?" Aragorn asked surprised. "What are you talking about, in Eru's name?"

"One word: Mead," Celylith said with loathing in his voice. "That brew is even worse than cram in my opinion."

"Come now!" the young man laughed, "You are exaggerating! It's just…"

"Disgusting," both elves finished the sentence.

"Frór was right," Aragorn grinned evilly. "I should go and have a drink with them. You two have not the slightest bit of humour. Not to mention taste, of course."

Legolas looked at his elven companion questioningly.  
"Do you still remember what I told you earlier today, my friend? About the wooden spoon?"

"Oh yes, my lord!" the silver haired elf exclaimed and quickly began to search his clothing. "Wait … I have one here, somewhere … it's a little bit rough around the edges, but …"

"That is perfect, do not worry," Legolas assured him, giving the dark haired man that rode next to him a probing glance, as if he was really contemplating where to start with disembowelling him.

"Funny. Really, really funny," Aragorn said tonelessly, doing his best to hide the grin that was beginning to spread over his face.

Celylith looked at him, eyes serious and dark as coals while he was desperately trying not to laugh.  
"It wasn't meant to be, ranger. I will send you back to your family in little pieces."

"Will you now?" Aragorn grinned at the elf. "And face my father's wrath?"

"On second thought, I think that revenge is highly overrated and that we should forget the sins of the past. Forgiveness is a virtue, after all," Celylith quickly continued, the mere mention of Lord Elrond sending shivers of fear down his back. 

He would rather escape to Mithlond than to tell either Lord Elrond or King Thranduil that anything had happened to their sons. No, he decided quickly, the Grey Havens or Valinor were not safe enough, they would only follow him. He would go to … to the Dark Tower, yes, that was it, he would hide in Sauron's dungeons. They would never find him there!

"A very sensible decision, my friend," Aragorn announced smugly. "Let bygones be bygones, that's what I always say."

"Excuse me?" Legolas asked incredulously. "Did I hear that correctly? Who else but you glued my brush to my hair?"

"Ah," the young man waved his hand dismissively, "There are exceptions."

"So, will we look for their camps tonight or tomorrow?" Celylith asked quickly, trying to lead the discussion away from this particular topic. Legolas hadn't forgiven the ranger for that one yet, and he doubted that he would in the near future.

"Camps?" Legolas asked his elven friend, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, camps, my friend," Aragorn nodded, turning serious again. "The Lake-men's and the third group's. Lomar's friends have to be somewhere close by if they are interested in this treasure as well."

"If they are," Legolas nodded as well. "I still think they are not your usual treasure hunters, Aragorn."

"Well, we will find out once we find their camp, wouldn't you agree?" the young ranger asked, silver eyes darkening. He was rather sure that he would find no rest tonight, not after being stuck underground for the better part of the day, in a cave that had only served to bring back dark memories.

"And to answer your question, _mellonamin_," he continued, smiling slightly at Celylith. "It is already too late to do anything today. I think it would be best if we returned to Dale this evening and set out early tomorrow morning, after having informed the king, of course. Bard needs to know that Erebor means him no harm."

Legolas nodded seriously.  
"I agree. It's getting dark, and I am very much looking forward to a meal that does not consist of mead and…"

Suddenly he stopped his horse, Celylith doing the same only a fraction of a second later. Aragorn rode on for a few paces until he saw that his friends had stopped, and he turned in his saddle, looking questioningly at them.

"Legolas? What is…"

He stopped when Legolas raised his hand in the universal gesture asking for silence. All three of them listened intently, and after a moment the elven prince announced,

"There is something wrong here."

Aragorn quickly studied his surroundings. They had stopped about five hundred yards before the road made a bend to the left, avoiding a rather tall hill that barred the sight of the path. Young trees lined the road left and right. With the falling darkness, the young ranger couldn't see anything out of the ordinary, but then again, no matter how much or hard he trained, he would never be able to rival elven senses.

"Where?" he asked quietly, one hand already on the hilt of his sword.

"Just ahead," Celylith answered for his prince. "The trees are whispering of danger and … Look out!!"

Aragorn barely had time to react when the silver haired elf urged his horse to a sudden leap, pushing both of them to the side. A second later an arrow cut through the air where he had been mere seconds earlier, and all three of them looked somewhat stunned for a second as a large group of men emerged from behind the bend, coming closer at a breakneck speed. The young man gave them a quick look and saw that there were about ten of them, too many for them to fight without killing a large number in the process.

Legolas seemed to have come to the same conclusion, turning his horse to the left where a long, rather steep slope led down to the banks of the River Running.  
"Go!"

Aragorn and Celylith needn't be told twice and followed their friend as quickly as possible, and the young man quickly began thanking Ilúvatar that he was riding an elven horse, for he really thought that he wouldn't have made it down the slope this quickly on a common one.  


Suddenly, when they were halfway on their way down, they saw more riders approach from the left, coming up from the river's banks. Legolas quickly reacted and changed his course to the right, trying to avoid the men as best as possible.

'Wonderful,' he berated himself, 'You are over 2500 years old and lead your companions right into a trap! A decades old elfling could have recognized this as the trap it is!'

Legolas looked behind him, checking if his friends were still following, even thought he heard the sounds of their horse's hooves that were slipping and scraping over the loose snow-covered rocks that covered the entire slope.

With some satisfaction he saw that the first group of the men had stopped at the edge of the road; they had apparently wisely decided that they would only break their necks if they tried to follow their prey down there and were trusting their companions to catch the elves and the ranger.

He was just watching Celylith who had grabbed Aragorn's arm when the young human threatened to slide off his mount as the animal lurched suddenly to the side as it momentarily lost its footing, when suddenly his senses flared to life, and he watched as if in slow motion how a young man in the first group notched an arrow to his bow and aimed at both of his friends.

A moment before the human released the arrow, he felt his heart fall straight into his stomach, and he cried out, his eyes wide,

"Celylith! Behind you! Look out!!"

His silver haired friend looked up in confusion, and just when the man up on the road was firing his arrow, he was beginning to turn around and move his horse to the side at the same time. Both was too late, however, and Celylith's body was thrown forwards against the neck of his horse when the projectile hit him in the back with a sickening noise.

"No!!" Legolas anguished cry echoed through the valley, multiplying and resounding in the forest that surrounded them. "Celylith!!!"

His elven friend merely looked at him; to Legolas it appeared that Celylith looked at him for an eternity, shock and swiftly growing pain etched onto his features. He opened his lips as if to say something as he blinked slowly in confusion, but no sound could be heard over the noise their horses were still creating as they were rushing down the slope.

Suddenly, the spell was broken, and Celylith gave him a small, pain-filled smile, only a ghost of the smiles he had flashed him only minutes earlier. Then his eyes rolled back into his head and he slid bonelessly off the running horse, his body hitting the stony ground with a thud and rolling down the slope, oblivious to his prince's frantic calls.

Legolas tried to stop his horse to go after his friend, but Rashwe was clearly frightened and unable to stop his momentum as he half slid and half rushed down the slope, and so the only thing the fair haired elf could do was watch helplessly as his friend's body impacted with a large boulder shortly before the end of the slope and came to a halt with a bone-jarring crash.  


  


  


TBC...  


  


  


ada - father (daddy)  
mellonamin - my friend  
dúnadan - 'Man of the West', ranger  


  


  


*giggles nervously* You know, it wasn't my fault ... it was HER, my alter ego ... uhm, an alien entity? The English food? I think I need to be somewhere right now - bye! *runs off to escape the 'Celylith Lives' foundation* So: What will happen? Is Celylith dead? Will Legolas and Aragorn get caught? Who are the attackers? Why the heck is Nili so evil? The answers to all these questions (well, most of them anyway *g*) in the next post, which will be here Friday or Saturday I think, I'll try to make it Friday if I get proper encouragement... *evil grin* Meaning: Review? Yes please?  


  


* * *

  


Additional A/N:  


Cathy/XsilicaX - You know, this brings me to a problem I've been pondering for some time now. Should I answer to your reply as XsilicaX or as Cathy? It's far from important and doesn't really matter, I know, but it's just something I've been asking myself... *grimaces* Yes, Nili the Snake indeed. The skin is coming off my arms right now, and I am distinctly beginning to feel like an overgrown Boa Constrictor... *g* And about the Bovril: I've threatened all my friends with serious bodily harm should they even bring a glass of that stuff anywhere near me, and I think they've got the message... *g* I hope you feel better now! *huggles*  
Coreinha - Well, I'm still not sure about the beards, I can't remember Tolkien ever mention anything about it... *g* And you should know by now that I'm not normal! I mean, I am QUITE normal, but not entirely, I'll admit that... Thanks, the trip was indeed safe and I got there on time, which is a miracle when you use Ryanair, one of these cheap airlines. *shrugs* We got there, that's something, at least... *g*  
Amelie - *watches Amelie run around in circles* Uhm, so you were looking forward to this chapter? In fact, I think you were in fact looking forward to chapter 19, but we'll see... Okay, Ma'am, one Celylith clone coming up now! I hope you'll enjoy him - oh, that did sound rather weird, huh? I didn't mean it like that... *evil grin* *blinks* You will kidnap Celylith ... and then ... Okay, you do know that you need help, don't you? You have a rather unhealthy obsession there, you know? Uhm, was that a threat? Did you threaten me with something horrible should I do something to Celylith? *beams* Thanks! I love death threats!  
Aratfeniel - Well, to be honest, I'm not sure yet whether or not Legolas and Celylith will do anything to him at all! Right now I think they have much more pressing problems than an obnoxious ranger... *evil grin* I really hope you didn't have to wait for too long for this, there was really no way to get this out any sooner! Sorry!  
Shadow Warrior - *g* Oh yes, Aragorn got himself into trouble - or all of them into trouble, to be precise... Oh yes! My laptop got to me in time! *huggles it* It's so beautiful! *grins* It's not normal to positively adore one's own laptop, is it? *huggles her* Thanks! I am sure I have lots of fun, since the weather is supposed to be really good ther next few days!  
Tapetum Lucidum - Well, I would definitely be scared! I imagine that disembowelement hurt no matter what, but I decided that it hurts the worst when done with a wooden spoon... *evil grin* 'Somehow I don't think he will sleep well tonight' - LOL! No! He will not, but I don't think that that will be the reason. *g* I love elves-dwarves scenes as well (D'oh! That's why I put them in here!), I hope you'll have fun with this chappie then! *blinks* London ... Chinatown ... Uhm, I've been there, and I have to admit, I haven't seen any, but... Well, I will be on the look-out for them next week when I go there...  
Alex Mistress Squirrel - Great you didn't give up while I have been preparing all this - it took some time and I was afraid people would be deciding that it was taking too long... I pity both the dwarves and the elves, actually, but most of all Aragorn! *g* Thanks! I'm already having a great time!  
LeggyLover03 - *shakes head in exasperation* You guys and your ranger pain, you're just insane... I promise you there will be plenty next chapter and the one after that, okay? And I don't need to ask Cathy, I DO know that you love it, my friend... Great you still like it!  
Cestari - *cackles evilly as well* Yeah, they are indeed with the dwarves, and neither they nor their hosts are especially happy about it! And yes, he will get a dwarf-elf 'couple' as companions, but the poor guys doesn't know that yet, does he? And we shouldn't tell him either, or he might try to escape again... *g*  
Sirithiliel - Well, define 'much trouble' then, please! I mean, there's much trouble and there's much trouble... I don't think it's too much trouble anyway - it could always get worse! *g* And I wouldn't know about betas since I don't use one, but I guess they can be evil, yes... *g* Thanks for your reviews!  
The InSaNe oNe - Oh dear God, two reviews! I think I will not survive this without lasting brain damage - but I'll definitely try! Mhahahaha! *watches Legolas have a fistfight with a tree* Now he's lost it, poor guy... I knew he couldn't last forever with them, it's a miracle he managed this long anyway... Fire swamps? D.O.U.S.es? Menfil-less trees? Lightning sand pits? Lashes with a wet noodle? Wrestling with a lion? R.O.U.S.es? Cannibalistic D.O.U.S.es? Hard headed dwarves and elves? Really, Miki, I hate to say it, but I think you are just losing your mind, really. Just a friendly warning, nothing more... *g* And always remember: I never said I would kill Celylith! There is still hope!!!! *huggles TiO* Thanks so much for your reviews! They are great - insane, but great...  
Zam - *talks very quickly* Don't worry, I don't think Fliewatuet meant it like _that_ - not everyone likes him like you do! *looks at giant tuna* That's a bit excessive Zam, put it down! Down, I say! No threatening my reviewers with giant fish, understood? So YOU gave that spoon to Celylith? I might have known - and I am wuite sure that Aragorn will be quite interested in that... *g* *averts eyes when Zam leaps into Celylith's arm* I have to agree with Legolas: This is something I SO do not want to see! It burnssss our eyesesssss, preciousss... And don't wory, there are lots more dwarves coming up, yay!  
TrustingFriendship - Yup, one could say that, even though Legolas and Dáin are trying to be reasonable there IS quite a lot of squabbling, I'll admit that... *g* And I agree with you, but the thing is that's not only any horse. It's Legolas' horse, and therefore more or less untouchable - you know how he is with his things... Great you still like it, thanks _so much_ for all your reviews!  
Gwyn - Two whole weeks without internet access! My God! *gags* That's against human rights, that's what it is! I know how terrible it can be... And don't you worry, there is a REAL cliffy coming up, at least I think so. And we have one next chapter and the one after that, and the one after that I think, so lots and lots coming up! You want elf torture then? Don't worry, just hang on for one or two chapters and you shall have it... *evil cackle*  
TigerLily713 - *g* Thanks! And trust me, I am having lots of fun already! Thanks for reviewing!  
TrinityTheSheDevil - Oh that's perfectly alright, not reviewing, I mean. I know that there's something called RL out there, it's supposed to be, anyway. I've heard about it, but if you ask me, it's more like a myth... *g* Thanks for your reviews though! I hope you had lots of fun in New York!  
Lina - Oh, I am sure Jack and Will are loving it with you and the Rohirrim! I mean, riding South and catching you all the time, who would NOT want that job? LOL, Bow to the Beard!!! That is SO FUNNY! I will never be able to look at Gimli's beard again! *grins evilly* Nope, you're right, Geran won't hurt your precious ranger, no, he won't... *watches Lina attack Celylith with a plastic spork* This is not a good idea ... no, not really ... Lina! Will you stop it! I cannot stand it when you attack my characters, you know that! Jeez, it's like talking to a telephone pole... And yes, we know that you like it when ANYONE is forceful... *g*  
Reginabean - I honestly don't know whether or not they will remember to do something horrible to Aragorn. They definitely have more pressing problems at the moment.. *evil grin* Don't worry, the laptop's here! Really! *huggles it* It's so wonderful, I simply love it... *g* Cloudly days ahead, yes, one could say so, I guess!  
Fliewatuet - Uhm, how many insults... I really don't know, I haven't counted them... *g* But Legolas is doing his best to remain civil, he is a prince after all! Well, as I said, I have no idea who started the 'lots-of-action' rumour, I certainly never said that! There is a cliffy, yes, and there is the little Celylith thing as well, but not THAT much action. *thinks* Then again, in comparison to the last few chapters there probably is a lot of action... The move went well, thanks a lot, althought I think I got about three hours of sleep in as many days, and the laptop's here! Yay Nili! *grins from ear to ear*  
Critternut - Well, England is a little ... weird (*g* J/k!), but lots of fun, believe me! Plus the weather's really nice at the moment... And yes, Geran will definitely be trouble, m'dear! He is a villain, so that's his job, I'm afraid... *growls* His name, girl, is Johnny Depp, and he is one of the best actors of the last twenty years. He is a really GOOD actor, and he has made some really good, unusual films, not only that usual Hollywood stuff. *nods* He is great. Understood? *g* G - R - E - A - T.  
Maranwe1 - Well, I think FF.net's policy of adding numbers to the names is really weird and stupid, but okay. It's - unfortunately - their webpage, so they can do whatever they want. *g* You're right, you know, English people say 'brilliant' quite a lot, now that you mention it! And wow, your life sounds quite stressful as well! But, the move went well, I think you could say, and I have to announce that sleep is highly overrated anyway. Who needs it? I don't... *g*  
Jack Sparrow1 - Oh, you like Adruran? *huggles* Thank you! I love it when people like my OCs and that did sound rather stupid... *g* Anyway, thanks. And I hope this update was soon enough! *g*  
Firnsarnien - Wow, that's a rather good program, I have to admit that. I think the 'Celylith Lives' Foundation will cause real problems in the near future - for me, that is... And it's a good thing that I'm not at home at the moment - you'll never find me here in Essex! Uhm, did I just say that? Forget about that bit of information, will you? So Gwaihir's too fast for Patriot Missiles? Well, uhm, what about ... nets then? Have you seen Reign of Fire? That's what I will do do... *g* LOL, Celylith is like Rainean and Trelan lovable and unkillable? If you say so, dear ... hold on to that thought... And I hate to say it, but this is a cliffy - so you'll have to wait for a bit longer till you find out what's happening to Celylith, sorry... No, scrap that, I'm not sorry, I love being evil! Mhahahahaha!  
Marbienl - Congratulations! *shakes her hand* You conquered FF.net and managed to submit a review! I am very proud of you, FF.net is a fiendish enemy... No, to be perfectly honest, I am in fact not very patient ... but I can't have them heal too fast, unfortunately. I mean, poor Estel's only human, and all that. But thanks, I'm glad someone appreciates it! *grabs Marbienl and drags her back* Stop it, for Christ's sake! I need Celylith, and please call your spider back, too! I am really getting tired of this! I need both the elves, and I promise you Estel will not get hurt - not by Celylith, that is... *evil grin* *hides face in hands* And don't antagonise the horse ... no ... not a good idea .... I can't watch it... *g* I don't know yet whether Aragorn's horse will get a name, I'll think about it. Perhaps in the next fic? And I will simply call ma dog who will eat your stupid spider - she likes to do that, the bigger the better... *g* And yes, lots of Estel pain in chapters 19/20/21, so hang on!  
Imbefaniel - I know! It's so mean! Sirius and Remus were the only characters I really likes, and there she goes and kills poor Padfoot! It's just not fair... *starts sobbing* Great you like the bickering, there's much more coming up!  
Seveawen - Oh, that's no problem at all, it's sweet that you're reviewing at all! Thanks a lot! And don't worry, I talk to everything, and I mean everything. Cars, computers, characters in movies, characters in books, TV sets and so on and so forth... Uhm, and this chappie is the last you're going to read till end of August? Poor you! I hate to say it too, but it IS a cliffy. I'm sorry, but I couldn't help myself, I NEEDED one... I hope you have lots of fun on your trip though!  
Alilacia - Yes, sweet ickle Estel should become a diplomat! *hugles resisting ranger* That's what Legolas and Celylith think, too... *g* LOL, it's a vicious circle indeed! Just look at the twins, they have been at it for the past 2800 years... You're moving too? Well, congratulations, it's very exciting, I think, and can be lots of fun too - if you don't value sleep too much, that is... *g* Good luck with it and enjoy the great weather! Isn't it simply great?  
Aron - Yup, Aragorn's quite dumb somtimes, not exactly the brightest crayon in the box... *g* I wouldn't have said that if I were him either. *shrugs* Ah well, it's his life, not mine. *grins evilly* Yes, my friend, they're in trouble, very deep trouble, and it's getting worse every second, they just don't know it yet. And you're right yet again, Celylith and Legolas aren't exactly very happy right now. But believe me, they will get even unhappier, so... *g*  
Strider's Girl - You're back nine days earlier? Why that? I hope you didn't get robbed or hurt or anything?! And thanks, I got here safe and sound, and even the weather's great! *points at cloudless sky* Can you believe it? I certainly can't, not after the last summer here... Great opportunity to get a sunburn! *g*  
ManuKu - *g* Ja, ich weiss... Die ganzen Typen hier sind mindestens genauso verrueckt wie ich... Ich habe allerdings keine Ahnung, ob ich nun der Erfinder der Dialog-Review bin oder nicht, ich nehme einfach mal an nicht. Ich schreibe erst seit einem Jahr reviews, und ich glaube, die waren schon weitaus laenger im Umlauf. *unschuldig guck* Hoehepunkt? Ich? In dieser Story? Niemals! Ich doch nicht! Ich halte nichts von Hoehepunkten, musst du wissen... *g* Ich gebe zu, dass die Story ohne Legolas/Aragorn/Celylith ziemlich ... leer .. waere, also werde ich doch wenigstens nicht alle umbringen. Danke fuer die guten Wuensche, und Spas habe ich ganz sicher!  
Salara - Das Wetter ist hier momentan wirklich toll! Ich kann's kaum glauben, und nicht so heiss wie bei uns in Berlin! Und du hast Recht, ich nehme an, dass Aragorn es schon jetzt bereut, nach Erebor gekommen zu sein - das ist ein Job den ich um kein Geld der Welt haben moechte! Hmm ... so, wie du das gerade darstellt gebe ich zu, dass unserer aller Lieblingscharatere Chancen, aus allem wieder heil 'rauszukommen, nicht unbedingt sehr gut stehen. Aber wart nur ab, irgendwie schaffen sie das schon, glaube ich jedenfalls... *g* Das mit den Spatzen hoert sich nach einer guten Idee an! Ich wuerde mich auch mit altmodischen Methoden (Erschiessen, Ertraenken, Erschlagen... *g*) zufriedengeben... Und du bist aus Pankow? Ich gebe zu, ich bin da eher aus dem anderen Lager, also Charlottenburg. Auch schoen. Und an dich und ManuKu: Ich finde eure Story immer noch toll, werde aber wahrscheinlich keine Zeit zum reviewen haben. Also nicht denken, dass ich euch im Stich gelassen habe! *knuddelt beide*  
Carrie - Carrie! *huggles* Great to see you, I missed you! Really, I did! And I know exactly what you mean, my laptop and computer are my babies as well! *hugs laptop* It's just the most perfect laptop I've ever seen! The best thing Legolas has done in this fis is near-drowning? LOL, you're evil, you really are... *g* And yes, I AM IN ENGLANG RIGHT NOW!!!! Mhahahahahahaha! And it's great! Mhahahahahaha! *gets a grip* Okay, so I'll admit it, I am evil too...LOL, Legolas as a pirate ? That's definitely an interesting idea, and I am SURE that Thranduil would simply be delighted! Thanks so much for your review, and I am sorry if I'll not be able to review much in the near future, but as I said: I'm in England and it's not very polite to be in front of the screen the whole time... *g*  
Kaeera - *muedes Seufzen* Nein, ich habe in der Tat nicht angenommen, dass du diese Geschichte vergessen haettest, das waere wohl zuviel des Guten gewesen. *g* Und keine Angst, ich bin nicht wirklich normal, aber ich behaupte immer noch, dass ich nicht so durchgeknallt bin wie ihr. *nickt* Definitiv nicht. Ist doch schoen, dass es dir gefallen hat, und ich glaube auch, dass Estel seine Entscheidung mittlerweile bereut. Ich hoffe, du hast noch einen tollen Sommer, England ist gar nicht SO toll. *eine Sekunde Pause* LUEGE! Es ist super! Mahahahahaha! *g* Sorry, aber ich bin sicher fu hast trotzdem Spass.  
LadySandrilene2 - *g* I love dwarves too! They're adorable! *huggles resisting dwarven warriors* And I based Rashwe's character on my sister's horse, which is just the same, believe me. I think there is a surprising amount of evil horses out there... *g* So you have control over cloth? Uhm, I'm sure Adruran will think twice now before doing anything rash. Thanks! *takes her sincere hopes* It's here, so it worked! Thanks a lot! *huggles her and the laptop*  
Nikara - Exactly! Dwarves are cool! You were a counselor for a week? Well, that's interesting at least... Hope you had fun?! Thanks a lot, England is great, as is the weather, which is nothing short of a miracle. *g* But I'm not complaining!  
Alisha1 - Well, I have to admit that I liked the names without the numbers better, but then again, I understand FF.net, somehow. And I'm glad that no-one else is stupid enough to chose a name like mine, so I probably won't get a number myself - I hope. *smiles smugly* See? I told you so! He's bloody fast, that one! It's your own fault that you got caught! Oh, and if I were you I would check if my sister wasn't being employed by the enemy or something, the gear sounds quite ... eccentric! LOL! 'Imagine my surprise when I found this one woman alone in the forest, with so many strange objects, holding a fish.' Oh, I can SO imagine that! This is priceless... *giggles* I am very sorry that you had to go to a funeral, really. I hope it wasn't too bad. Btw, I wouldn't say that Nólad was a bad guy, I'd rather say he was ... uhm, good-evil? Not quite evil? Just a tiny bit evil? And well, you know, I like to write not-so-predictable stories, plus I somehow really wanted to kill him. Whether or not he does in the end, you will find out soon, so don't worry... *g* And about the computer: Did you ever consider that the computer isn't working _because_ you are slamming heavy things into the poor thing? Huh? Just an idea, really... *huggles* Thanks a lot for the great review! It absolutely made my day! 

Well, I hope I got all the reviews, since FF.net seriously screwed up this time. I got some review alerts for reviews that never showed and lots of reviews I never got the alert for. *shrugs* It's evil, that's what it is...  


  


  



	19. Nightfall

**Disclaimer: **For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.  
  
  
**A/N:  
  
*reads reviews* Death threat ... death threat ... Cor will be coming after me with a large stick ... TrinityTheSheDevil will choke me (I especially liked her new name for me: She Who Must Not Be Named *g*) ... death threat ... the Celylith Lives Foundation will send their wargs/orcs/Uruk-hai etc. after me ... Halo and her squeaky hammer of doom ... Mouse will clout me ... insults ... death threat ... *trails off***  
  
**Yay!! Thank you! *huggles all reviewers* I did mention that I simply LOVE death threats, didn't I? Thank you so much, it's great you all liked the chapter** **- and Celylith, apparently... *evil grin* Yes, poor, poor Celylith...  
  
I have been enjoying the hottest summer for years here in England, and am starting to resemble a snake with a very strong sunburn where the skin _doesn't_ come off. *shudders* I hate that, and God damn my parent for giving me fair skin... Another thing: My sister will come over and visit me and my friends for a few days, which I am really looking forward to, but that also means that I won't be able to write much in the next few days. She is only staying till Wednesday, so I think you can expect an update on Thursday, I think. I'm sorry, but I don't think I'll be able to post any sooner.  
  
  
Okay, enough gloom-and-doom, here's the next chapter, which I am sure you have all be waiting for, probably with murderous thoughts in the back of your head... *g* Well, what do we see ... well, Aragorn and Legolas get into a _little bit_ of trouble, I won't say anything about Celylith here, and we even see a bit more of the dwarves, which I won't huggle now 'cause it really starts to annoy them. *g*  
  
Have fun and review, please!  
  
  
  
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Chapter 19  
  
  
Aragorn's mind was frozen in shock, a state he was in far too often of late, the part of him that was still capable of reasonable thought noted.   
  
He stared with wide eyes at Celylith's body that just slammed into a large boulder at the foot of the incline they were still rushing down. Inwardly he screamed at the silver haired elf to move, to get back to his feet, but nothing of that sort happened, and the part of him that was trained in the healing arts supplied quietly that he very probably would never get up again at all.  
  
He felt as if he was enveloped in a thick, numbing mist, and so he heard Legolas' desperate cries only very faintly. After what felt like an hour or two, he was finally able tear his eyes off the motionless figure of his elven friend, and he promptly tried to stop his horse's mad dash down the slope, with about as much success as Legolas.  
  
The horses were already half-sliding down the incline, and even if they had been inclined to listen to their riders – which they were definitely not right now, judging by their rolling eyes and wildly swishing tails – they probably would have been unable to stop their movements.  
  
Aragorn did his best to cling to his horse, praying fervently to all the Valar he could think of right now to make sure they got down here without breaking their necks. He looked at Legolas who was 'riding' (in fact, more or less sliding) down the snow covered slope a few feet in front of him, and sent another quick prayer to Elbereth that the elf wouldn't jump off his horse to get to his friend.  
  
Under normal circumstances, he knew that Legolas was too sensible to do such a suicidal thing, but right now he did not look as if he were susceptible to reasonable thought. In fact, the young ranger was sure that he had never seen the elven prince this desperate or wild-eyed.  
  
'Please, Gilthoniel, let Celylith live, please…'  
  
Through the chaos of rumbling stones and flying snow, he saw that the men that had chased them down here – the men that had shot Celylith, he thought with a sudden surge of anger – were coming after them, using a small path that was obviously hidden somewhere in the trees to their right.   
  
Even though it was only a dirt path, it gave them a distinctive advantage, and Aragorn quickly saw that the group would arrive at the foot of the incline only a very short time after Legolas, him and Celylith's riderless horse. To make matters even worse, the other group was gaining on them as well, effectively cutting off their only other way of escape except for the river, and the young ranger knew very well that it was not an option. Even if they had wanted to leave Celylith behind, which they did not of course, they would be trapped, since Legolas might perhaps survive swimming across the icy, nearly frozen stream, but he most certainly would not.  
  
Wonderful, he thought, beginning to seethe with anger, guilt and fear for Celylith, this had been a trap so obvious that even the stupidest of persons would have seen it. What kind of ranger was he? He hadn't seen this, and because of his incompetence Celylith had been injured and was most probably…  
  
He stopped himself in mid-thought. He would not think of that now, Celylith was not dead. He was not dead, not dead, not dead…  
  
In front of him, Legolas finally managed to get his horse under control and to pull it to a halt, jumping off Rashwe's back before the white horse had even come to a full stop. Aragorn's horse was so perplexed by this that it stopped as well, almost colliding with the other animal.  
  
Aragorn sat in the saddle, breathing hard and desperately trying to calm his racing heart. He never wanted to do this again, he decided as he felt the adrenaline finally subside a bit, _never_. This had been something the twins would have found highly amusing, but then again, they were insane…  
  
His head swivelled to the right when he heard the men reach the bottom of the incline, only to move back to the left when he suddenly heard the clashing sounds of fighting. Jumping off his horse as well, he ran after his friend that was involved in a heated fight with the second group that had placed itself between them and their fallen friend.  
  
As he raced to his elven friend's side, he ignored the inner voice that told him that they were done for, without their horses, on the ground and outnumbered, because, right now, he didn't care in the slightest. There was no sense in escaping when these men killed Legolas as well, after they had probably already killed…  
  
The thought of Celylith fuelled the flame of fury that roared inside his chest to a blazing fire, and with an unarticulated shout of rage the young man hurled himself at a man that was trying to sneak up on his elven friend from behind.   
  
Two of the six men that had attacked Legolas were already lying on the ground, one of them looking quite dead, and the third and fourth joined them quickly. With a pang of intense worry Aragorn noted that Legolas didn't even seem to have noticed that he had joined the fight, his silver-blue eyes vacant as he thrust his elven dagger into his adversary's shoulder. The man went down with a cry at the exact same time that Aragorn dispatched his opponent, and Legolas whirled round to face Aragorn.  
  
For a second, the young ranger thought that he would really attack him, but then the fair haired elf turned back around, intending to make his way over to the place where Celylith lay.  
  
"Hold it right there! Another move and you are dead!"  
  
Aragorn looked up sharply, his eyes coming to rest on the two crossbows that two of the men held that barred their way to the other elf .  
  
"Listen to them if you want to live to see another sunrise!"  
  
Another voice announced, and the young ranger whirled around, only to see the group that had surprised them on the road stand right behind him. He could see at least two crossbows and two bows that were pointed at them, and with a hopeless sigh he realised that this was it. There was no way they were going to get out of this.  
  
"Didn't you listen, elf? I said stop!"  
  
The sharp voice brought the young man out of his thoughts, and he turned back, only to have his heart freeze in his chest: Legolas was ignoring the men completely and was quickly making his way over to them, his mind bent on reaching his childhood friend.  
  
"Legolas! Stop it!" he called, beginning to run after him, not really caring if the men behind him shot him or not.  
  
Legolas ignored him, just as he ignored the warnings the men issued when he was still coming closer. One of the men finally fired, obviously terrified by the grim look on the elven prince's face, but his bolt missed him by inches, which Legolas didn't truly notice either. All he could see was the crumpled, motionless body of Celylith, his oldest friend that lay behind the group of the men that had placed themselves between him and the other two of their prey.  
  
Suddenly, he felt two arms wrap themselves around his middle, pulling him back slightly. He automatically started to fight, he needed to reach Celylith, he needed to help him…  
  
"Legolas! Stop it, please my friend!"  
  
Aragorn did his best to restrain the fair haired elf, who in turn tried everything in his power to get away from this person that wanted to hold him back.  
  
"Legolas!" he called again, pulling him back forcefully so that they both landed on the ground in the snow. Valar, he needed to make his friend see reason, he had no doubts whatsoever that these men would kill them if they did another step in their direction.  
  
"Legolas!" he exclaimed urgently, switching to Elvish, _"Lasto enni! Sedho!"_ He tightened his grip on his friend when he tried to escape his restraining hands. _"Sedho! Degithar le, daro sen!"_  
  
Legolas' movements stilled somewhat, and Aragorn continued, ignoring the men that were slowly coming closer.  
_"Legolas, lastach nin? Pedo enni!"_  
  
The elven prince's body went still, and he took a deep, shuddering breath before he answered quietly._  
"Laston le, Estel."_  
  
Aragorn sighed quietly, but refused to let go of his friend just yet.  
"Please, Legolas," he continued in Westron. "Do not do this. Celylith would not want you to throw your life away for him, would he? You cannot help him if you're dead, my friend."  
  
"Touching," a voice above them commented. "To your feet, now."  
  
The force of the combined _look _of the two beings on the ground should rightly have sent the red haired man that pointed his crossbow at them reeling backwards, but he somehow managed to stay upright, although he averted his eyes.  
  
"Come now," the man said, nudging Aragorn slightly with the tip of his boot. "Don't make this even more unpleasant than it already is."  
  
The young ranger shortly contemplated going for his sword, but quickly abandoned that idea as he slowly rose to his feet. There were about fifteen men standing around them in a loose circle, some of them holding various injuries they owed to sharp elven steel, and he quickly saw that there was no way out of their present situation.  
  
Beside him, Legolas got to his feet as well, glaring darkly at the men surrounding them, but Aragorn noticed with relief that the elven prince was making no attempts to break through the circle.  
"Let us go."  
  
A tall, brown haired man at the back of the group simply shook his head.  
"No."  
  
Aragorn blinked perplexedly. Just 'No', that was it?  
"What do you want from us?" he asked, quickly masking his confusion. "Let us see to our companion."  
  
The man smiled mirthlessly.  
"You would be wasting your time, ranger."  
  
Aragorn quickly grasped Legolas' arm, sensing that his elven friend was very close to lunging at the man.  
"Who are you? What do you want?"  
  
The brown haired man studied both of them with his head cocked slightly to the side before turning to the red haired man that had spoken earlier.  
"Take their weapons and bind them."  
  
When he saw the unwilling faces of the man and the elf, he added, turning back to them,  
  
"Let me make one thing clear: I am a professional, I do not enjoy being toyed with. If one of you causes trouble, my men will put a bolt into the other one. We need only one of you alive, so don't stress your luck with me."  
  
Aragorn clenched his teeth, but refrained from breaking the arm of the man that took his sword, bow, quiver and knives, even though it was one of the hardest things he had ever done. This person, whoever he may be, was either very lucky or very clever. Neither one of them was willing to let the other get hurt for his actions, and the leader of these people had apparently known that perfectly well.  
  
Satisfied that neither the ranger nor the elf would try anything, Adruran walked over to the spot where Geran and another man were nearing the still body of the second elf now. Friends, he mused as he walked over the snowy ground, that was a weakness that could be found in almost every enemy. Friends made you weak, friends gave others power over you.  
  
He looked back at the two beings that were just being searched for weapons and bound securely. There you saw it, he thought with a sneer. Both of them were obviously capable warriors, but if you threatened to punish the one for the actions of the other, all they do was obey and glare at their enemies.  
  
No, he thought, shaking his head. Friends were nothing but a liability, and this little episode was once again proof of that. He arrived at the elf's side the exact moment the other two men got to the boulder.  
  
He turned to Geran and had to refrain from grabbing the front of his tunic and shaking him.  
"I thought my orders had been clear, Geran. I told you that I wanted none of them killed. What part of 'not killed' did you not understand?"  
  
The younger man tore his eyes away from the elf and looked at him, swallowing nervously.  
"Well, they were about to escape and…"  
  
"Which of course gave you the right to disobey my orders?!"  
  
Geran ducked his head and meekly shook his head. Adruran took a step closer to him, eyes burning with fury, partly because the younger man was right. The other elf and the ranger would have escaped hadn't they stopped to help their fallen companion.  
  
"This is the very last time, Geran," he said softly. "If you disobey me again, I swear that I will kill you myself. I will think of a highly unpleasant manner of death, and be assured that the rest of the men and I myself will highly enjoy watching you die. Understood?"  
  
Geran swallowed again. He had thought that Adruran was losing his touch, but he had apparently been wrong.  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Adruran narrowed his eyes. He fully intended to carry out his threat; he had enough of that boy's attitude now. Just because he didn't enjoy inflicting pain on others didn't mean that he couldn't, after all.  
  
"I hope so," he said in a low voice before turning to the other man. "How is he?"  
  
He studied the crumpled form of the elf. He was lying on his left side, the broken shaft of the arrow protruding from his back, a large crimson stain colouring his green cloak an even darker colour. Adruran gave the man a sign, and the human turned the elf roughly over with the tip of his boot.  
  
Adruran looked dispassionately at what had probably been a fair face once upon a time, but what was now nothing but a bloody mass framed by disarrayed silver hair. His little tumble down the incline was obviously also responsible for the various cuts and bruises that could be seen all over his body, the man thought. The snow around the being was churned up and spotted with quite a lot of blood.  
  
All in all, Adruran thought with a slight shrug, he had rarely seen anyone that looked deader than this elf.  
  
He looked at the man that was bending over the still form of the elf and lifted an eyebrow.  
"So?"  
  
The man straightened up from his cursory examination, wiping his bloody hand on the elf's clothing, only to find that his hand came away bloodier than before.  
"He's dead, sir," he announced, trying to clean his hand in the snow. "What the arrow started, the fall finished. He's gone."  
  
Something like a choked cry could be heard behind them, and they turned to see the now bound elf struggle against his captors, a look of such burning pain and fury on his face that the three of them unconsciously took a step backwards. The men surrounding the two prisoners had their trouble holding the fair being back, and some of them were already unsheathing their weapons.  
  
Adruran watched with fascination how the ranger forcefully shoved his guards aside and reached out with his bound hands, grabbing the elf's forearms and turning him around. What he told him the brown haired man did not understand for he spoke once again in that elvish tongue, but it seemed to have some effect for after a few more seconds, his companion relaxed and allowed the men to take a hold of him again.  
  
The guards grabbed the fair haired being and forcefully shoved him into the direction of the horses, and just before he followed him, the ranger lifted his head and looked at them, eyes hard and cold in his pale face.   
Then he was turned around and dragged off after the elf, leaving the three men standing next to the body of the elf and wondering what in all of Arda had just happened.  
  
"They will be trouble," Adruran muttered to himself, not really aware of his two subordinates.  
  
"Aye, sir," Geran agreed, a small smile on his lips, "Aye, they will be."  
  
Adruran once again contemplated ripping the other's head off his shoulders, but restrained himself just in time. He couldn't afford to waste more time, after all.  
  
"Come then," he told the other two men as he turned around and slowly made his way down the incline to where the horses where standing. He stopped for a moment and gave the twisted body of the dead elf another look. "Leave him."  
  
While the man who had reached the silver haired elf's side first followed quickly, Geran remained behind for a moment longer. He looked down on the still body, still smiling slightly, and bent down to take the fair being's dagger from its sheath. The young man lifted the knife to his eyes, admiring the artwork for a second, before he shoved it into his belt.  
  
"That's the first one," he told the elf's motionless body, "And I have to admit, that was a bit too easy. I really hope your friend will put up more of a fight, elf."  
  
Giving Celylith's body a last look, he turned as well, already thinking about his other prey. He reached the others just in time to see Adruran step closer to the ranger, looking at him with hard eyes. The elf was already on his horse, bound securely to the prancing horse that looked anything but comfortable with its proximity to so many humans and had apparently only decided to co-operate for his listless master's sake.  
  
With something akin to concern Geran noted that the fair being's eyes were vacant, staring into nothing, an air of intense hopelessness and despair emanating from his lithe form. He really hoped that the elf would get a grip soon, where was the fun in hunting something that didn't even seem to care if it escaped or not?  
  
"Have an eye on that elf, ranger," Adruran told the younger man seriously. "As I said, we need only one of you alive. If he keeps threatening my men, I will see to it that he is taken care of."  
  
The ranger just looked at Adruran and his lieutenant with eyes grey as dark clouds, contempt and deep sadness in the darkening orbs.  
"You cannot even begin to comprehend what you have done."  
  
"Oh?" Tiddryr who had stepped closer asked. "And what would that be, boy?"  
  
The dark haired man fixed his eyes on the man, looking calmly at him.  
"You will die for this, all of you. You have slain what had never been meant to perish in this world, one of the firstborn that has lived for longer than most of your ancestors put together! One of the _eldar_, one of the beings fair and wise beyond your pitiable comprehension."   
  
He shook his head, closing his eyes shortly in an attempt to get his emotions under control.  
  
"And he was my friend. I swear to you, even if it is the last thing I will ever do, I will see to it that every one of you pays for what you've done, that I swear by Elbereth Gilthoniel and Ilúvatar himself! And even if I do not manage to do that, then know that you have just brought the wrath of the elves upon you, and believe me when I say that none of you will escape it. That I promise you."  
  
He gave them a look so cold and full of heartache that it made their blood run cold.  
"I never break my promises."  
  
Adruran swallowed once, trying to keep his rising anxiety at bay. Why was it that a boy who could have been his son managed to intimidate him thus?  
  
"Well, ranger, then let me promise _you _something," he said as he stepped closer to his captive. "If you or the elf as much as look at one of my men the wrong way, the other one will die. And," he added, eyes boring into the younger man's, "I would try to hold my tongue if I were you, or the consequences might prove highly unpleasant. For you, that is."  
  
Aragorn just looked at him with steely grey eyes, refusing to break the eye contact, so finally Adruran averted his gaze with an exasperated shake of his head and gave him a hard shove into Geran's direction.  
"Here, get him on his horse. We will leave now."  
  
Adruran turned on his heel and walked off in search of his own mount, noting with some satisfaction that his men were ready to leave. When he reached his horse, he turned back again, giving his captives a long look and shaking his head again when he noticed that the dead elf's horse had to be dragged away from his body by three men, neighing and rearing.  
  
No, he thought to himself, studying the elf and the ranger closely, he would definitely not keep them around, they were far too dangerous for that. He would get rid of them as fast as possible, he decided, mounting his horse.  
  
After they had answered some questions, if possible.  
  
  
  
  
Aragorn was seething.  
  
Outwardly, he remained calm and composed, meeting the men's gazes coldly, but inside he was being torn apart by so many and strong emotions that he didn't even know where to start trying to calm them.  
  
There was pain of course, pain and sadness that almost stole his breath away. Celylith was dead, these men had killed him, just like that. They had shown no more remorse for the loss of an immortal life than they would have shown for the loss of a bug, and that alone was a reason why he would kill them all once he got out of this.  
  
Almost as strong in its intensity was the guilt he felt. He had not seen the trap until it had been too late, and Celylith had died because of it. Hadn't he insisted that they went to the Lonely Mountain, they wouldn't even have been there, and nothing of this would have happened. Inwardly, he knew that these men would have thought of another time and place to ambush them, but that was the reasonable part of his brain and he was none too inclined to listen to the voice of reason now.  
  
Then there was fear of course, a dark, ever growing fear that was slowly beginning to fill his entire being. First, it was of course because of their situation, for no matter what the leader of these people said, he truly did not believe that they intended to let any of them live. That fear, however, was dwarfed by the fear for Legolas that had only intensified over the past few hours.  
  
Ever since they had left the slope, his elven friend and him bound to their horses and surrounded by the men, Legolas hadn't said a word, hadn't looked up or acknowledged his surroundings in any manner. First, he had thought that the elven prince had slipped into a shock of some sort, but by now he was getting worried. Legolas was too listless, his usually bright eyes too vacant, and the air of despair that hung over him like a dark cloud was intense enough that Aragorn was sure that even the men had noticed something. He had seen this expression once before, in a she-elf's eyes who had just heard that her sister had died in an orc attack while travelling back from a visit to Mithlond.  
  
He closed his eyes shortly, a part of him noting that they were drawing very close to the western slopes now. Yes, he had seen this once before, and that she-elf had escaped her choking grief only by journeying to the Blessed Realm. His father had told him then that she would have died otherwise, that she would have faded until her soul would have thrown off the chains of this existence and joined her sister in Mandos' Halls.  
  
The young ranger knew how close Celylith and Legolas were … had been, he corrected himself darkly, biting his lip to control his own grief. If he was right, then Legolas would either die or have to leave for Valinor to escape that fate, and that was only if they even managed to survive the next few hours.  
  
'Damn them!' he thought furiously, instantly ashamed of his selfish anger. These men would be responsible for this, for him losing his best friend, and there was little he could do to stop it…  
  
The small column of riders jerked to a stop, and Aragorn raised his head, already cursing himself for not paying better attention. Darkness had fallen an hour or so ago, but the small camp they had stopped in was brightly lit by several campfires that cast an eerie glow on the beige tents that covered most of clearing's space. There were about eight or nine of them, arranged in a loose circle around a main fireplace, although there were several smaller ones as well.  
  
One of his guards stepped closer and began to unfasten the ropes that bound him to his horse. When the bonds came loose, he reached up and grasped the young ranger's left arm, dragging him down from the animal. Aragorn had to bite down on his lip to stifle the moan of pain that rose in his throat; his left side was _not _happy about such movements, and it let its discontent be known only too clearly.  
  
The man grinned coldly at him, and Aragorn had to fight a certain sense of déjà vu. Had he seen this man before?   
"Welcome to our camp, ranger. I hope you will have a … pleasant stay. Although," he leaned closer to the dark haired man, his voice soft in his captive's ear, "I doubt it somehow."  
  
"Hanar!" Tiddryr's unwilling voice sounded somewhere to the right. "Get him and the elf into that tent over there. They will stay there until the captain has decided what to do with them."  
  
Hanar looked up and nodded quickly, pushing the bound man forwards and noting that Geran was doing the same with the unresisting elf. They entered the tent, a rather small one that was empty except for a rather large stock of food in the one corner.  
  
Geran forced the fair haired elf to sit down with the back against the main tent pole in the middle of the small space, which he did, seemingly totally disinterested in the world around him. Grinning evilly, Hanar swept the feet out from under his captive, sending the younger man sprawling face first onto the hard ground.   
  
Aragorn just lay on his side for a second, trying to ignore the pain in the left side of his chest and wondering if he had done something to this man or if he was acting like that all the time. He was just sending a quick prayer to Elbereth that he wouldn't be here long enough to find out when Hanar grabbed his bound hands and, to his great surprise, cut the bonds there with a quick slash of his knife.  
  
The young ranger was momentarily too stunned to react – not that it would have done him much good either if he had – and so the next thing he knew was a knee that was brutally pressed into the small of his back and callous hands that jerked his arms behind his back and bound his wrists there again.  
  
When he was finished with that, Hanar grabbed the younger man by his bound arms and dragged him backwards, and that was the moment, when he felt as if his arms were wrenched out of their sockets, that Aragorn decided that yes, he definitely must have done something to make this man angry.  
  
That was another one of his faults, the dark haired ranger decided when his back impacted rather hard with the tent pole and the other man was beginning to secure him to the wood, he could never remember what he had done _now _to make people angry. He had that feeling that, somewhere, he had seen this man before, but he really couldn't remember where or when, or what he could possibly have done to infuriate him like this.  
  
Hanar finished tying the ranger to the pole and lightly patted his cheek, making Aragorn suppress the sudden urge to bite him in the hand.  
"See, ranger? Already finished!" He gave Geran a small smile and they turned around to leave the tent, Hanar calling back over his shoulder, "I'll be back for you, you can count on it."  
  
"Oh, yes, I do," Aragorn mumbled under his breath, when suddenly his eyes grew wide when he realised where he knew that man from. It wasn't his face that had triggered the memory, it was the voice, the voice he had heard the last time when he had been lying semi-conscious on the floor of an abandoned warehouse, fighting hard not to lose give in to the darkness that was threatening to pull him under…  
  
He pressed his head against the tent pole, fighting down the panic that rose inside of him. That man had been there, he had been the man that had held him while Lomar and that other man had hit him again and again…  
  
'O Ilúvatar,' he thought desperately, 'This is not fair! Why does this always happen to me?'  
  
This had to be the worst luck of the century, Aragorn decided, mind swirling with memories and fears; only he would manage to get himself captured by the one person that held a grudge against him in a radius of many, many leagues. This Hanar, if he had understood the name correctly, was apparently blaming him for the death of Lomar.  
  
But why did they know that the man was dead? Well, he thought after a second, they had probably agreed to meet later, and the fact that Lomar hadn't shown up had apparently been proof enough for them to assume that the man was dead. Which he was, Aragorn shrugged helplessly.  
  
And somehow Hanar had come to the conclusion that he, Aragorn, was to be blamed for his friend's death, and was apparently more than ready to make up for that. Yet he had been unable to even stay conscious when Lomar had killed himself with Legolas' knife, but then again, there was no way for the other man to know that. All he could see was that Aragorn was still alive and here and Lomar wasn't, and the young ranger had no intention whatsoever to correct the assumption that he was to blame.  
  
If Hanar found out that it had been Legolas' knife who had killed his companion – even though it hadn't been Legolas' hand that had controlled it, but Aragorn had the feeling that the man wouldn't be very interested in such trivialities – he would very likely direct his attention to the elven prince, and there was no way he would allow that.  
  
That line of thought brought him back to the situation he was in at the moment, and for a second he asked himself what his brothers would say to this mess he had got himself into this time. He would never know, he decided quickly, for he would never tell them. And neither would Legolas, or Celyl…  
  
A painful pang went through his heart, and he tightly clenched his teeth. A Elbereth, why, there had been no reason, no reason at all for this…  
  
He quickly shook his head, forcing these thoughts and feelings back. He would mourn for his elven friend later, he couldn't allow himself to get consumed by this like Legolas – who, by the way, had been silent for far too long now.  
  
Taking a deep breath, he vowed to himself that he wouldn't allow another friend to slip away from him as well, neither into despair and death nor to Valinor. He would not allow it, not while he had any say in the matter at all.  
  
  
  
  
He hadn't known pain this intense for a long, a very long time, and it took him almost two hours to remember when _had _been the last time he had felt such choking, all-consuming, heartbreaking pain. Finally, he remembered: It had been the day his mother had left him, but at that time he had been too young to fully grasp the concept of what was happening and why his mother would never come back. His father had consoled him, of course, and so had Glónduil and Celylith.  
  
Had he had any strength left, he would probably have cried out aloud at that thought. O Eru, Celylith had helped him, had tried to cheer him up as elflings do – namely by setting free a family of black squirrels in his room, which gained them the undivided attention of his father who had lectured both of them about bringing wild animals into the palace. Celylith had always been there, almost his entire life, and never in his more than 2500 years of existence had they been parted for more than a few decades at the most.  
  
And now Glónduil was away on a year long patrol and only Ilúvatar knew if he would ever come back, and Celylith was … dead.  
  
The pain that was threatening to tear his heart asunder even intensified, and the thick mist that seemed to have laid itself over his senses thickened. He still couldn't believe it, although he had seen his friend's bloody body. He couldn't believe that Celylith was dead, he just couldn't be! He had always been with him, what was he going to now that he was gone? What was he going to tell Celythramir, his father? O the Valar, it would surely be enough to break the older elf's heart, after his wife and daughter had already journeyed to the Undying Lands.  
  
This wasn't possible, it must be a nightmare, a nightmare he would hopefully wake up from soon, please… He couldn't take this, it was tearing him apart. There was no-one here that stopped him from falling deeper and deeper into this darkness and despair, and he was slowly losing himself in this pain that was too intense for him to fight or understand.  
  
Celylith had been the brother he had never had, the one who had known him for all his life, the one who had known of all the things he had done when he had been a child. And now he was dead, and he was alone…   
  
He really could not tell how much time he had spent in this agonising darkness, drowning in despair, when he felt something peculiar, something that he somehow likened to a ripple in a dark pool. First, he didn't pay it much attention, but then Legolas realised that it had been in fact a voice that had ripped through the blackness and despair that enveloped him.  
  
And, he thought curiously detached, that voice sounded thoroughly annoyed by now.  
  
"Legolas, please! Come back to me, I beg you, my friend!"  
  
For a fleeting moment, his heart rejoiced, that had to be Celylith! He wasn't dead after all! But then he realised that it wasn't, for the voice was too rough and too deep. Celylith was dead, and he would never hear his voice again…  
  
The darkness intensified again, but the voice was apparently not willing to let him escape so easily.  
"Legolas! If you do not answer me soon, you stupid wood-elf, I will surely … well, I do not know yet, but I will do something dreadful to you!"  
  
Legolas shrugged inwardly. Who cared what happened to him? He certainly didn't. But something about that voice had intrigued him, he knew it, if he could only remember where from…  
  
"Legolas!" the voice called again, sounding close to desperation and, he thought puzzled, rather close to tears now. "Please, _mellonamin_, I need you! You cannot just leave me as well, you promised! Do you not remember, Legolas? When we first came to Lake-town, you promised me not to leave me yet, not for a long time. These were your words, elf! Don't start breaking your promises now, I beg you, Legolas … fight it, please! I need you, now…"  
  
Aragorn, the elf realised somewhat fuzzily, that was Aragorn's voice. He was here as well? He had truly forgotten everything except his own grief, and it somehow startled him to hear his human friend plead with him in such a desperate tone of voice. Something in his hurting soul responded to the urgency in the man's voice, and so he slowly began to make his way back to reality.  
  
In truth, he did not want to. He wanted to stay here and be alone with his pain and despair, and somehow he knew that it would only become worse when he emerged from this still rather safe place, but he also knew he had to listen to Aragorn's voice. The ranger was right, he had promised him, and that was something he wouldn't forget, not even now.  
  
It took him quite some time to return to reality, but in the end he did, taking a deep breath as if he had forgotten how to. Blinking perplexedly, he took in his surroundings. How exactly had he got into a tent? And, he thought, trying to flex his bound hands, how had he managed to get tied to a … a tent-pole?  
  
Before he had much time to contemplate this rather pressing question though, something very hard impacted with the back of his head, sending it flying forward. Aragorn had apparently decided that he had talked to his unresponsive friend long enough now and had butted his head against Legolas', trying to get an answer out of him this way.  
  
"Ouch!" Legolas complained, shaking his head slightly. "What was that for?"  
  
"Legolas!" Aragorn exclaimed, so relieved that he could barely bring out the words. "Oh, thank Elbereth! I thought you would never answer me!"  
  
The way they were tied to the pole, back to back, Legolas could not see his friend's face, but he could very well imagine the look of mixed worry, reproach and relief on his face.  
"I am sorry, Strider," he said, trying hard not to think of anything but the present and failing miserably. "I couldn't … I wasn't … here."  
  
"I know, my friend, I know," the young ranger answered softly, leaning his head against the tent pole. "I am so very, very sorry. He was my friend as well."  
  
Legolas didn't answer. Even thinking about Celylith hurt too much, not to mention speaking.  
"Where are we?" he asked instead, voice barely audible.  
  
"In their camp," the man replied. "It is close to the western hangs, but far enough away from Dale to make sure that no-one will stumble over them by chance."  
  
"Well," Legolas commented dryly. "It appears that we have just found the third group."  
  
"We have," Aragorn nodded grimly. "I recognised the other man from the warehouse. It is them."   
  
"He is here? You are sure?" When the ranger nodded, the elf countered, "Then why are we still alive? What do they want from us?"  
  
"I don't know," Aragorn shook his head. "I have no idea, but I do think we are going to find out." He fell silent for a minute, before he timidly asked, "You … will not go, will you?"  
  
Legolas almost smiled when he heard the almost childlike tone in his human friend's voice.  
  
"No, Estel," he reassured him, wishing he could look him in the face, "I will not, not this way, anyway. You are right, I keep my promises." A dark look stole over his eyes, and he added, voice cold as ice now, "And I will make a new one. They will die, all of them. I will kill every single one of them with my bare hands if I have to."  
  
"_We _will, _mellonamin_," Aragorn corrected the fair haired elf. "I vowed the same thing, and I will see that it is done."  
  
Legolas did smile now, but it was a dark smile and no mirth reached his eyes. Before he could reply, the flap of the tent was thrown back and four men he faintly remembered entered, looking at them with an identical twinkle in their eyes he did not like at all.  
  
Without another word the four humans stepped closer, undid the ropes that bound the two of them to the pole and pulled them to their feet. In the same silent manner they were escorted out of the tent, and when he stepped outside, blinking once to adapt to the rather harsh light from several blazing fires, Legolas decided that he did not like this at all.   
  
The silence of his guards slightly unnerved him; if he had learned one thing in his life, it was that most humans liked to boast, especially if they had a little bit of power over someone else. That the four men did nothing of that sort did not bode well for them.  
  
And, he added rather wryly, the fact that all the other men were gathered round the middle of the camp in a loose circle, looking expectantly at them, was doing nothing to put his mind at ease either. The men stepped aside to let them through, and Legolas set eyes on the commander of these humans, flanked by two of the other men he had seen earlier and standing next to a roaring fire and a pole that looked as though it was used for tying horses to it.  
  
'O Elbereth,' he sighed inwardly, 'Why can't these people think of other methods to obtain their information?'  
  
Adruran looked at his two captives that had come to a halt in front of him, inwardly shaking his head. He really didn't want to do this, not because he was feeling sorry for the elf or the ranger, but because he knew that it would only give Geran and some of the other men dangerous ideas. But then again, he reasoned, there was no other way to find out what he wanted to, and he didn't want to keep them around for much longer either, so it didn't really matter.  
  
"I will only ask this once," he announced quietly. "So I'd advise you to pay close attention. Who has talked to you about all this? Does the Elvenking know? Are there any more elves waiting in the woods? Why have you come here?" He took a small step forwards, unconsciously averting his eyes when the elf looked at him with such deadly intensity that he couldn't bear his gaze for long. "And don't even try to tell me that you don't know what I am talking about, for I know that you do."  
  
Adruran walked up to the ranger, raising an eyebrow when he grabbed the other man's chin and inspected the nearly faded bruises on his face.  
"You know what I want to know, don't you, boy? You have met two of my men already, I've heard. One is here, the other has … disappeared, one could say. So, what happened to Lomar?"  
  
Aragorn wrenched his face out of the brow haired man's grasp and glared darkly at him.  
"He is dead," he stated calmly, noting out of the corner of his eyes that Hanar stiffened at his words. Suppressing the fear that was beginning to sneak up on him again, he added, "He was not very clever, I am afraid."  
  
Legolas looked sharply at his human friend, asking himself if the man had a death wish or something of that sort, throwing that statement into these men's faces in this tone of voice, but the expression in Aragorn's eyes said that he was doing this on purpose. But why?  
  
Adruran gave the younger man a long look.  
"You didn't listen to me, ranger," he said, shooting Geran and Hanar a fleeting glance. "I told you to watch your mouth." He stepped over to Legolas, but didn't even try to look him in the eye. Somehow, the fair haired seemed to have quietened down a bit, a state of mind that made him even warier of the elf. "And you, Master Elf? Are you here by order of your liege? What does he know?"  
  
He stepped back a bit and surveyed both of them closely.  
"Well?"  
  
Aragorn and Legolas stared back at him, faces emotionless. They both did very well know that these men intended to kill them, and the only thing that prevented them from doing right that at the moment was their fear that King Thranduil could already be on his way with an army. If they told them that all of this had been an accident of sorts, a coincidence, they would be dead faster than they could even blink twice.  
  
Adruran shook his head, truly saddened. He had hoped they could have settled this professionally.  
"You are making a mistake, boys, both of you. Have it your way though," he said, motioning at the men around them who quickly dispersed, much to the surprise of his two prisoners. "You are interrupting something rather important, I'm afraid," he told them in a manner of explanation. "My men and I have something else to do this night, one could say that we have a visit to pay to some mutual friends."   
  
He turned to Geran.   
"I will leave you here with five others, is that enough?" When the younger man nodded, he turned back to the elf and the ranger who looked at him with expressionless faces, but their eyes gleamed with what could only be described as hatred. "I will be back in two hours, three at the most, and by then I expect some answers. As I said, I do not enjoy being toyed with, and it would be to your benefit if you had something to say to me by then."  
  
He turned around and walked off into the direction of his horse, and, after some minutes of rather chaotic activity, the part of the men that would leave for the Lake-men's camp was ready, waiting for their captain to appear, which he did after a few seconds. Adruran nodded at his lieutenants, and accompanied by Tiddryr's and Bleon's orders and occasional curses the group moved out while their superior stayed behind for a moment longer, riding up to Geran and looking hard at him.  
  
"Do. Not. Kill. Them." He told the younger man softly, two pairs of dark eyes boring into one another. "Do not let yourself get carried away. If I return and find two bodies here, you will not live long to regret your over-enthusiasm. Understood?"  
  
"Yes, sir," Geran said earnestly, but he couldn't hide the gleam of anticipation in his eyes.  
  
Adruran gave the six men that would remain in the camp one last look before he turned his horse and quickly followed his men, wondering if Geran would manage to follow his orders this time. Well, he shrugged as he reached the end of the column, if he did not, he would kill him, and therefore wouldn't have that problem anymore…  
  
Geran looked after his superior until the hoof beat had faded in the distance before turning back to his two captives that stood in front of him, both flanked left and right by a man that had each grabbed one of their arms. This was almost too good to be true, he thought, suppressing a wide grin, a ranger _and _an elf…  
  
"Well," he said, slowly beginning to circle the small group of six beings, "You two like to be stubborn, do you?" He traded a quick look with Hanar, who looked even angrier now than before, if such a thing was even possible. Geran grinned inwardly. The ranger should probably not have talked about Lomar in just that tone of voice…  
  
He clapped lightly and stopped again, grinning openly now.  
"So, which one shall we start with?" He tabbed his right index finger lightly against his lips, apparently deep in thought. "Oh, that's a hard choice, really…" Geran raised the finger again, waggling it from left to right. "I think though, I will start with … you," he said with a small smile, pointing at Legolas.  
  
The elven prince's face betrayed no emotions at all, silver-blue eyes fixed unwaveringly on the man's excited features. After a second Geran averted his eyes, his grin fading a little.  
  
"This should prove to be interesting," he commented nonchalantly, ignoring the sudden cold shiver that raced down his back. He took a step away from the two bound beings, walking up to the pole and grinning evilly at the ranger as he walked past who stared at him with wide, hateful eyes. He stopped next to it and placed one hand on the smooth wood, running his fingers lightly over the dark surface.  
  
Geran turned back to the others and nodded at the two guards that held the elf's arms.  
  
"Bring him."  
  
  
  
  
Frerin was not in a very good mood.  
  
In fact, one might even have said that he was in an exceptionally bad mood, and that was because he was spending what had promised to become a rather nice evening with stumbling around the mountainside.   
  
Frór had decided that the setup of patrols was a good idea, and, unfortunately, he had also convinced the Lord Ori who was the one of King Dáin's councillors that was responsible for setting up watches and that kind of things. He had argued that in the light of the things they had learned from the ranger and the elves they would be well advised to be more careful, and that patrolling the proximity of the mountain every other hour at night was a prudent course of action.   
  
'Well,' he thought, gripping the handle of his axe and giving the back of the dwarf in front of him a dark look, 'Prudent it may be, but if it's effective, that is another thing entirely.'  
  
No, dwarves were not elves, Aulë be praised, and therefore were not made for stumbling around a dark forest at night. He still thought that it had been a mistake allowing the elves to see the king. While he had nothing against rangers, even thought they could act oddly enough as well from time to time, he didn't trust an elf farther than he could throw him, and, he admitted to himself, that wasn't too far.  
  
Frerin stumbled over a protruding tree root, asking himself how it was that he could find his way in every pitch black tunnel and cave, but not in a star-lit forest. He would almost have collided with the back of the dwarf in front of him, and stopped with a rather inventive curse that involved an ill-tempered dragon, Frór and eternal torment.  
  
A gruff laugh sounded from the front.  
"Is something the matter, Frerin? You don't sound too happy back there!"  
  
Frerin growled darkly.  
"If you were not my mother's son, I would hurt you for this, Frór, I really would. Why have we stopped?"  
  
Frór answered with an identical grumble, which the dark bearded dwarf took as an request to join him at the front of their small patrol. He pushed through the other members of the group until he reached his brother's side, his dark eyes growing wide when he saw the scene that spread out in front of their eyes in the light of the small torch Frór held.  
  
"Mahal," he breathed quietly. "What has happened here?"  
  
They had come down the main road from the North and had travelled approximately two miles and therefore close to the point where they wanted to turn West to return in a wide arch to the Lonely Mountain. Right now they were standing in front of a rather tall hill that gleamed white in the moonlight, the road turning sharply to the left to avoid the obstruction.  
  
Even to the most untrained eye it was obvious that a rather large group of riders had churned up the snow here, and that alone was curious enough, for he knew with certainty that no-one except their "guests" today had come to the mountain in more than three days. What was even more curious though were the tracks that were leading to the incline that plunged down on the left hand side, and, that was the most curious thing he had seen in a long time, leading down over the edge.  
  
Whoever had ridden down there must have either been very stupid, insane or desperate – not that people who rode horses weren't insane in the first place. He himself had never been in a situation that had demanded that he actually mounted one of these demons that were generally, and, in his opinion falsely called horses. A pony was something different, but a horse … Aulë save him if he ever felt the urge to actually mount one of these monsters.  
  
"Come!" Frór called gruffly, and the small beings quickly began to make their way over to the edge of the slide, rightly assuming that whoever had left these tracks had left again long ago. The small dwarvish troupe reached the edge of the path, and four bearded faces stared down the incline, dark eyes trying to make out their surroundings in the darkness.  
  
"There!" the youngest member of their party called suddenly. "There is something lying at the foot of that boulder!"  
  
Frerin squinted slightly, and really: Something big and unmoving lay there, and when a beam of moonlight briefly touched long fair hair, he even knew what it was.  
"It's one of the elves," he said quietly, rolling his eyes. "Must have fallen down, the idiot."  
  
Frór shook his head unwillingly, straightening up again.  
"No, he hasn't," he said shortly, pointing sharply into the direction of the tracks. "Look at that! Someone made them ride down here, and you may guess who that was."  
  
The fourth dwarf grumbled irritated.  
"The humans. That's enough now. Let's go back and report this to the king."  
  
"First we will go down there and get his body," Frór insisted, ignoring the disbelieving looks his companions shot him.  
  
"Why?" Frerin asked, shrugging openly. "He's dead, you can see that from a mile off."  
  
His brother looked at him impatiently.  
"Do you want to explain to the Elvenking that we didn't bring him back for a proper funeral, when it is perhaps even his son? Or to King Dáin?" He shook his head, blonde beard swinging from side to side. "Well, I don't. Besides, we might find some clues as to what has happened to Strider and the other elf. He might have been an elf, but he still doesn't deserve to remain here to be found by the scavengers." Frór looked at all of them, obviously not willing to argue about this topic. "Come, there is a path leading down over there on the right."  
  
Frerin looked at his departing brother's back for a second before he reluctantly followed him, trailed by the other two dwarves. Wonderful, he thought grumpily as they were beginning to move down the steep, snow covered path, now he was _climbing_ in the dark because of these cursed elves.  
  
The perfect ending to a perfect day, indeed.  
  
  
  
  
  
**TBC...  
  
  
  
  
  
** _Lasto enni! Sedho! - Listen to me! Be calm!  
Sedho! Degithar le, daro sen! - Be calm! They will kill you, stop this!  
Legolas, lastach nin? - Legolas, do you hear me?  
Pedo enni - Talk to me!_  
_Laston le, Estel - I hear you, Estel_  
_eldar - 'People of the Stars', elves_  
_mellonamin - my friend  
  
  
  
Yet another A/N_:  
  
_As you probably have noticed, I have lately started to really look into Quenya and Sindarin, and am now deeply ashamed for the "Elvish" I used in "An Eye For An Eye". I didn't know any better, but that's not really an excuse_... _*g* Now I have a wonderful book on the subject, and found a few really good language resources for both languages. So this should be real Sindarin now, with lenition, nasal mutation and all that. Please don't ask me why I still use 'mellonamin', which is just like all the rest I have used before a very bad, distorted version of Quenya. I will replace all the dialogues with real ones when I have time, and will probably start to use 'mellon nín'_ _then. *shrugs* Later.  
  
  
  
  
_***rubs hands gleefully* So, here we go... Legolas is in lots of trouble, but so is Estel, so don't worry. I will not comment on Celylith here, and neither will I in the answers to the reviews, so you can keep keep on threatening me if you want to, but it won't help. *g* I know that this was a cliffy, but I just couldn't resist, there were so few in the last chapters. And there will be more, at least two in a row now, I'm sorry. *evil grin* To be honest: No, I'm not, I DO enjoy being evil. So: Review? Please? I love reviews, and they do encourage me! Pretty Please?**  
  
  
  


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_**Additional A/N:  
  
Coreinha - ***g* I knew you would like it! And couldn't you just put Celylith down for a second? I mean, you know that Zam is a bit strange, so are many more people around here... Hope you liked this chapter, though I doubt it somehow... *g*  
**TrinityTheSheDevil** - Meanie? Me, a meanie? I am hurt! I am not mean, I am evil! That's a difference! *watches Trin rush Celylith to the hospital* You too? Can't you guys just keep your fingers off my characters? Besides, I think YOU damaged him beyond repair - taping him to the bed, Jeez... *shakes head*   
**Tapetum Lucidum - ***nods* Legolas is a little diplomat. Well, he should be too, being a prince and all... And it's a good thing that he didn't kill Gloin, 'cause I really don't think that Gimli would have been too inclined to befriend the elf that killed his father... *g* I've never had mead, but I guess it's not too bad, being made of honey and all that - I think the elves are just being prissy... *g* And no, I am not trying to kill Legolas with grief, and no, I didn't shoot Celylith in the back. That was Geran. See? I'm innocent!  
**Kimberlee** - You're new to FF.net? *turns her around and gives her hard shove in the back* Fly, you fool! Run while you still can! We are all insane here, I would get out of here while I was still sane... *sighs* It's apparently already too late. But hey, it's always great to have a new reviewer, so... Great you like it! So you're studying Political Science, Spanish and Classics? That's better than me! Politics is more or less useful, a reason why I'm thinking about taking it next year too... *g* And I like the New Mexico plan! Sounds good! Thanks a lot for reviewing, reviews help a lot!  
**Teddybear888** - *blushes* Thanks for all the compliments! It's great you like my weird little story! Well, and the thing about the funny scenes that pop up everywhere is that I can't write an entirely serious scene, not to save my life. I tried it several times and failed miserably. Somehow there always is something funny, something that I just HAVE to write... *g* No comments on the Celylith thing, and yes, I do love him! That's my problem, I love to hurt those I love!  
**Gwyn** - *nods* I like that rule! I have written it in three-feet-big letters on the wall above my bed... And ... *puts hands over ears* ... I'm not listening! Not listening! The rule does ALWAYS apply, it does! You are being tricksssssyy, preciousssss... *g*  
**Blackrose1356 **- Great you like the cliffy! As I said, there are a few more to come! Sorry, I'm not saying anything about Celylith. *whispers* I'll never tell!  
**Seveawen - **Why would I do such a thing? Because I'm evil and love hurting the poor little elves and ranger! I'm sorry about the cliffy, but just lean back and relax! Enjoy Italy! I'm sure it will be great, I just LOVE Italy. Where exactly are you going? Well, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that I'll have to post in the meantime, otherwise I will have some very unhappy readers on my hands - and we can't do that, can we? *g* Have fun in Italy!  
**JackSparrow1** - Well, yes, it's kinda Celylith's job to stick up for Legolas, with him being his prince and all that... *g* I hope that this was soon enough to ensure that you don't fall off the edge of your seat, great you liked the last chapter!  
**Firnsarnien** - Well, don't say I didn't warn you! I merely said I would consider it, didn't I? Gwaihir is equipped with a flame thrower now? Dammit, and I am in England right now, just like in Reign of Fire! Noooo!!!! *runs off screaming* Well, actually I have never seen the whole movie, just parts of it, but I do know which part you mean! And you should know that I have never written a single line with pen and paper, I just need my computer to write! I can't do it otherwise, so if you want me to write more, you will have to give me my laptop... *g* And you ... seem to have something in your eye, you know, all the blinking... *g*  
**Halo** - Uhm, what hills? Scotland? You want to run to Scotland? Well, go ahead... *g* And I will admit that you could probably hunt me down indeed - so here's the next chapter! And about PotC: What about next week sometime? My sister is leaving on Wednesday morning, so just send me an email and tell me when you want us to meet and I can see if I can come to you. Or would you want to come to here? Just tell me!  
**Alilacia** - Pretty hot? You could say that... Well, I always assumed that Estel met Bilbo and the dwarves, I mean, Rindell is a big house after all, but still just a house, so I guess it would have been hard to miss each other, especially since they stayed quite a long time. *g* Me too. I think eveybody likes knowing things others don't... And no, Adruran is not like Addramyr/Donyc/Cornallar, it's more Geran and Hanar you should worry about... You want to move somewhere closer? Closer to where?  
**LeggyLover03 - ***sighs* No, I will not comment on Celylith. Sorry. And sorry again, Celylith won't show up in Rivendell, mainly because Estel won't get to Rivendell in the near future. Certainly not in this story (remember: The passes are blocked), and probably not in the next either. Well, it would be unreasonable.  
**Imbefaniel** - I know, I know, Sirius' death is a real tragedy. I haven't read the book yet and I won't either till I've passed my exams in October, but I know what happens, of course. I hope that you're feeling a bit better now, I know what that feels like! There are just weeks when everything goes wrong! *huggles*  
**Strider's Girl** - Ugh, that doesn't sound like a very god holiday, although I like Belgium very much. Brussels is a great city, even though horribly ugly in some parts... But I understand you too, it's always a shame to waste money... Well, I don't know why either, but in my stories they just refuse to shut up! I am trying to make the chapters shorter, but I can't, which is highly infuriating too... *g*   
**Mouse5 ****- **Well ... to be honest, I don't really see the difference. Does it matter whether you come to Germany or to England? It's about the same distance, and clouting me here would be actually easier... *g* And as I said before, _I_ did not shoot Celylith, it was Geran, I am innocent! *blinks innocently* See?   
**Bailey** - Why did I have to end it there? Because I'm evil! Mhahahahahaha! *runs off cackling evilly* *hands her a paper back* Calm down, deep breaths ... breathe in ... breathe out .... breathe in .... *g* I really hope I haven't really given you a heart attack, it would really make me sad to lose a new reviewer... *g* Thanks for your review!  
**LOTRMatrixStarwarsfan - ***g* Nili-cide attempts? That's at least as bad as regicide - no, worse! *g* *looks at chapter* Hmm, then I am apparently an alien that has taken over Nili's body - it also might be because I love to be evil ... and still no-one knows why... *g* No, it doesn't matter that you haven't reviewed for a while, though I cried for the first few days - but now I'm over it! Really! Is this really so heart-stopping? Hmmm, perhaps I will have to write a new disclaimer, you might be right there... If you still want my help, then tell me what I can do to help! I don't know how much time I have, but I'll see what I can do!   
**Sirithiliel** - Yes, there are many whethers and ifs involved right now, I admit that... Thanks for your reviews! Reviews really help to encourage me!  
**CrazyLOTRfan** - Yes, cliffy indeed! *huggles her back* And as I said before: There are many more coming up! Yay Nili! You have been camping, haven't you? I hope you had lots of fun - though I doubt it somehow, the two times I've actually done it I hated it with a passion... And Legolas doesn't know that he will befriend Gimli, does he? And I think if you told him, he wouldn't believe you... Stubborn elf, that one... *shakes head*   
**Kaeera - ***kichert* 'Die Welt is toll, oleole...' Ich habe so gelacht! Ich weiss nicht warum, aber irgendwie fand ich das zum Bruellen komisch... Das mit der Zwillingsstory kann ich noch nciht sagen, da ich noch nicht einmal angefangen habe, darueber nachzudenken. *g* Ich kann mir Treebeard geradezu vorstellen, wie er sich Aragorn schnappt und ihn adoptiert... Und dun weisst doch: Spass versteckt sich IMMER im Kuehlschrank. Ich weiss auch nicht warum, aber dort ist er immer zu finden, meist in Form von Eis und Schokolade... *g* Was haetten Sie denn gerne als Mitbringsel? Vielleicht einen Elben-Zwilling? *g*  
**Angel** - Damn these humans indeed... *g* Glad you like it, thank you very much for the review!  
**TrustingFriendship** - Uhm, dwarves saving elves in the end? *reads her ideas for later chapters* Oh... *hastily* Nooooooo, I would never think of something like that... *g* And I am sure, too, that Aragorn was a sweet child - probably a little demon, but still sweet!  
**Critternut** - Yeah, you're right, but I LOVE death threats! I don't know why and am perfectly aware that it's sick, but I do! You've never been out of the US? Oh, I have been in lots of countries! I will not start enumerating all of them right now, since I think that you don't want to hear it, but I can recommend Mexico! It's beautiful! And about Johnny Depp: I think he's bi. He's married and has a daughter, so I think he is rather straight right now, but I'm quite sure that he had a few male relationships or was said to have had them, anyway... *shrugs* Doesn't matter, he's still hot.   
**AngelGirl7 - ***g* I think I read it a long time ago, but I can still remember what you mean. His name was Tathar, wasn't it? It was most tragic indeed.. *g* And no, I don't really want to make you cry again, I just love to hurt the characters I like, including my OCs. *shrugs* Don't tell me, I'm evil.   
**Aratfeniel** - Yeah, Legolas doesn't know yet, and I doubt he would believe you either would you tell him now. And of course there is another update before you leave town on Sunday, don't worry! Here you go!  
**Reginabean** - Uhm ... what can I say ... you are chosing the wrong favourite characters? I'm sorry? I liked Nólad too? And I am very sorry, but I don't understand you with all the growling you're doing - what are you trying to tell me? That you want Celylith to die? I can't understand you, really! And I strongly resent Whack-a-Nili practise - it's not helping, believe me!  
**XsilicaX** - I don't know if you can huggle a character back to life - elf or not! It just doesn't sound very helpful... *g* Brilliant? That chapter? *blushes* Well, thank you! That was a very kind thing to say! But then again, you better should be nice to me, as my fiancée and all that! *grins evilly* I mentioned how great Robbie was, didn't I? I think I did, but still: IT WAS GREAT!!!! Mhahahahaahahahah! And yes, I am a weather goddess! Kneel before your goddess!!! *g* And it's too late already, my skin's gone, there are only bits and pieces left - and the sunburn, of course...  
**Shadow Warrior** - *fake smile* Okay, I didn't. I didn't do anything to Celylith. Happy now? *g* So you want to torture me for a change? That does sound rather bad, I will have to make sure that Stan's still chained to my front door - just in case one of you really finds me... Great you liked the chappie! *huggles* Thanks for thereview!  
**Amelie** - Yup, you're quite right, they have to get into trouble. It's just a law of nature, I think... *g* And I know there 12-steps-programs, although I have to admit that I never got further than to step 4: Get rid of your computer. *shudders* I just couldn't do it. And you're right again, English people are quite persistent when maters concern their 'traditions' or 'customs'. I love driving on the left side of the road, although it is definitely weird. Well, I have to admit that your bulletproof vest sound like a good idea - but it isn't. Remember that he smashed into the rocks? There a vest can't help him. Money doesn't grow off trees? *looks up from watering her money trees* Dammit, I knew there was a flaw in my plan...  
**Elladan1 - **You haven't been able to read FF in several WEEKS? *faints in shock* Wow, that's bad, poor you! *huggles Elladan* I pity you... *blushes at compliments* Thank you very much! Thanks for all the kind words, it's not good for my ego but very nice to hear nonetheless... *g*  
**One15** - Wow, drei Wochen Frankreich? Das ist echt toll, da kann ich nurn gratulieren! Und ich bin sicher, dass du auch viel Spass ohne meine Story hattest, drei Wochen ausspannen ist doch schon was nettes... Was meinst du, es haette Aragorn erwischen sollen? Ich wuerde so was nie mit meinem Lieblingsranger machen! Und ich weiss, dass es fies war, was er gemacht hat, ich habe Haare ueber die Hueften, ICH haette ihn umgebracht, und zwar eiskalt. Schoen, dass du dich anscheinend erholt hast! Danke fuer's reviewen!  
**LadySandrilene2** - *looks at swimming suit she's wearing* Well, technically this isn't _cloth_ per se - it's a nylon-whatever-thing. So I don't have to be afraid of you! Mhahahahaha! *maniac laugh* And I'm immune to Elrond's look! Double Mhahahahaah! Oh, you got a horse too! Well, I have to admit I don't love them too much, although I can ride and all that, but congrats! It sounds like a very beautiful horse too! And a great name! Yay!   
**Marbienl** - Wow! Another monster review! But I have to say that the weather is truly wonderful right now! I would have never believed it, but... Oh, thank you! *grabs tarot cards and runs away cackling evilly* Oh, what havoc I can wreak with that! *g* Oh, and I don't think that Legolas OR Celylith are beginning to like the dwarves. And if I were you I would definitely not call them 'dwarf lovers'. I don't think they would react too well... *reads on* Do you know that your fixation on Estel owies? I didn't even _think_ about his left side at the moment, Jeez, you are really... And I really don't believe that Rashwe can be blamed. He did all he could what should he have done when Legolas told him to go down the slope? *blinks* Uhm, YES, you are definitely _very_ scary. V - E - R - Y. And no, I've never been to Manchester, I'm more in the South-East or in Scotland. Oh, and don't worry, I have bug repellent spray, the beg bugs will regret it of they bite me!!  
**Alex Mistress Squirrel** - Yeah, the dwarves are simply adorable! *huggles them after all* I love 'em! Thank you very much for your review! *huggles* Thanks!  
**Cestari** - You're making pancakes? Oh, yummy! I hope you didn't set the head on fire and/or burned yourself? Thanks for taking the time to review anyway!  
**Mer V** - Oh, don't worry, I don't mind hearing that many times! *g* Thanks for saying it again! Well, yes, Celylith ... I won't say anything here. *g* Thank you for your review!  
**Zam** - *g* So you're not only a dwarf, you are clumsy too? Oh, what a combination - very dangerous, if you ask me... *g* Celylith has 'an emotional attachment' to you? Does that mean he is beginning to fall in love with you? Uncle Gloin? So Legolas is your .. hm, cousin's best friend? That makes him family, in a way... *g* *pats Zam's back* I know, it is very unfair that Balin died! I liked him very much too! I'm afraid that Gimli won't be in the story, at least I think so. It still might happen, but I don't really want to, since I don't think Legolas and Gimli had met before. LOL, Sauron's dungeons are already full? I should have known, really... *g* *ducks head* I'm sorry, okay? *whispers* Just hang on, okay? That's all I'm going to say...  
**Lina** - LOL, Elrond and Thranduil glaring simultaneously? That is a truly frightening idea, I don't think anybody could survive that... *g* *gasp* Your friends really did that? I am sure that it was meant to be an accident, but it is still cruel. VERY cruel. *chokes* You want to push Legolas over a cliff? *hastily ready future chapters* Oh, what a stupid idea! Don't do that! Who would think of such nonsense? Really.... LOL, the Rohirrim have chainsaws? 'The ones who hurt Celylith must die, for to hurt Celylith is to hurt Zam, and to hurt Zam is to hurt Lina ... and the ones who hurt Lina must die.' Well, good thing I'm not at home right now, huh? *g*  
**Alisha B** - *nods* That's better than Alisha1. Definitely. Oh, you are so evil! Taking his blood when he is lying unconsciously (well, more or less, apparently, since he is still threatening you *g*) on the ground, not very fair! Shame on you! Yeah, that's the problem with creating clone armies - just have a look at Star Wars. That's the one thing I have learned from George Lucas: Clones are nothing but trouble. That's why only I am allowed to clone my OCs, it's too dangerous for you guys and I could lose treasured reviewers otherwise! *huggles Alisha* We can't have that! So you will understand why I'm not overly impressed by your threat.. *g* See? I told you your sister was working for the enemy! Even if it was not Sauron, but Celylith - same difference. I was thinking? What do you mean, I was thinking? Does that mean that I'm normally NOT thinking? Hey! Come back here! What did you mean by that?? *g*   
**Maranwe1** - LOL, you will never ever ever speak to me again? That is indeed an evil threat... And I know, Rowling is an evil woman, Sirius was the only character I really liked. Oh, that would be such an honour! I will definitely write more stories, though it will probably take me some time... *g* 'Little heart-warming moments between catastrophes'? I wouldn't say it exactly like that ... but you might be right! And well, it depends where you are! If you're on the US East coast and it's midnight, it 5 am the next day here in England. Oh, but you checked, sorry. LOL, Torture on the go? Not bad, I have to remember that...  
**TheGoddessAthena** - But ... but I love cliffies! They are so much fun! Hope you still liked it, and thanks a lot for the review!  
**Nilbrethiliel** - _Natuerlich_ gibt es ein boeses Alter Ego. Die Sache ist zwar, dass ich genauso boese bin, aber na ja... Und du bist mindestens genauso fies, Celylith einfach so zu ersticken... Und keine Angst, du kriegst schon noch deinen Klon. Irgendwann. *g* Und ha! Alles, was es in Spanien gibt, gibt es hier auch, minus den Waldbraenden - Mittwoch hatten wir hier im Sueden 37 °C! *knuddelt* Ich wuensche dir ganz viel Spass im Urlaub!  
**A Person** - *pouts* I may be crazy, but I'm no fool! I resent that! I should be beaten to death with the wood spoon? *fake smile* Come now, calm down, it wasn't that bad, now was it? Oh, and don't worry, I know that your idle threat is VERY threatening, and I'll admit that a deflated basketball is even more threatening! Really! LOL, your other personality is 'Another Person'? I like that! *g*   
**TigerLily713** - *evil grin* I did! And he can! Mhahahahaha! *evil laugh* Thanks four review, and just read on...  
**Surreal13** - *g* Of course you're not threatening me, I didn't believe it for a second! I will not say anything about Celylith though - sorry. Glad you like the little banter between all of them! Thanks a lot for reviewing!   
**Aron** - Sounds good! Let's just become elves! Would make everything a lot easier - and plastic surgery the wealthiest people in the world.. *g* Well, I have to agree, I don't feel particularly sorry for the 'Fox's' men or Adruran's men - although I usually against the death penalty, I would be willing to make an exception here... *g* Not good, you could definitely say that... LOL, a million, billion, trillion times? Who could resist? Here's the next bit!  
**ThE iNsAnE oNe** - First things first: You're alright, are you? You didn't get blown away or something? I just saw the pictures on the telly, and all I could think was 'Oh my God, Miki's in Florida!' So I really hope you, your dog, your brother, your parents and your computer are okay?! *g* And I think you are even beginning to scare the twins, and that's hard, hiugh on Menfil as they usually are. LOL, 'is breathing an important thing'? Oh, this is priceless, you just wait.. *starts giggling* And FF.net really did that? DIE, EVIL SITE OF HELL!!! They are just stupid, WHY do they keep doing such things? There is absolutely no reason for that! I'm honoured that you still check it out to read my story, thank you! *huggles her* Thanks a lot! I love you too, even though you have lost your non-existant mind!   
  
***huggles* Thanks so much! I don't think I ever had so many reviews, except perhaps for the second to last chapter for AEFAE. Thanks so much, you made my week even better than it already was! **  
  
  



	20. Starless Sky

**Disclaimer: **For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.  
  
  
**A/N:  
  
Well, I really do think that you guys have a few serious issues. Quite a lot of you seem to suffer from uncontrollable bouts of screaming, insulting and threatening poor, innocent authors... *g* Who am I talking about? Well, me of course... *innocent puppy dog look*  
**  
**My sister's gone which is quite nice, since I didn't have much time to do anything than lie by the pool - or, with 100 °F (about 38 °C) here** **in ENGLAND, _in_ the pool - or try to show her London in a day - which is impossible, as every sensible person knows.** ***shrugs* Once again proof that I'm not sensible. But we did have quite a lot of fun, even though she didn't stop complaining about everybody driving on the wrong side of the road... *g***  
  
**Unfortunately, I still can't promise more frequent updates since that STUPID college paper (if I ever get my hands on Hannibal or Scipio Africanus, they will wish they'd never been born, and I get an awful lot of practice with that stuff! *grrr*)** **has to be finished on the 21st. After that perhaps, even though I doubt it, knowing my life... *g*  
  
  
Very well, enough ranting, I have the great pleasure to present chapter 20, in which we see a little bit of Legolas/Aragorn whumping! *almost all the readers cheer* I am beginning to get routine in torturing them, which is beginning to scare me a bit. *g* Plus, there's more of Frór and his fellow dwarves, and a cliffy of course, because I know how much you LOVE them. *evil grin* There are even more coming, I somehow really got in the mood lately...  
  
Enjoy and review, please!  
  
  
  
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Chapter 20  
  
  
Legolas was pushed into the direction of the pole until he came to a halt in front of it, yet he didn't give it a single glance since he had fixed his eyes unwaveringly on the young man's face. There was no reason to make this Geran not feel at least a little bit uncomfortable, that was the least he could do – and the only thing he could do right now, he admitted rather dryly to himself.  
  
He felt a knife move between his wrist and cut the rope there, but all thoughts of escape were quickly driven from his mind when one of Aragorn's guards placed the blade of a dagger under the young ranger's chin. Sighing inwardly, he let the men bind his hands in front of him again. He might have been able to eliminate his two guards and Geran before they had had time to act, but he wouldn't be fast enough to take on them and get to Aragorn before his guard cut his throat.  
  
He was pulled forward as his hands were secured to the wooden post, and Legolas did his best not to think about all the situations he had already been in that had started similarly - and how these situations had ended. More often than not, they had resulted in an extensive stay in the healing wing, but that wasn't something he wanted to think about right now.  
  
When he was convinced that his prisoner was bound securely, Geran stepped closer, beginning to circle the pole once more. The elf stared straight ahead, inwardly deciding with an untypical flash of fury to break this man's legs in the near future.  
  
"So," the man said, looking at the fair haired being from every angle. He leaned closer, talking to Legolas like an old acquaintance. "It is fortunate that you came here, do you know that?" When it became clear that the elven prince had no intention to answer him any time soon, Geran shrugged slightly and continued, taking up his circling once more. "As I said, it is fortunate, because I now have the chance to try out a … a toy of mine which I have been working on quite some time."  
  
He gave Hanar a small sign and the other man dashed off into the direction of a tent on the far end of the camp. Geran looked from the elf to the ranger, who was white with fury and looked at him as if at this exact moment nothing would have pleased him more than to be able to rip his heart out – which was probably true, he admitted with a small smile.  
  
After a moment, Hanar was back, carrying something Aragorn couldn't quite identify, but whose shape caused his heart to plummet straight into his stomach where it started bouncing around, making him feel definitely sick.  
  
With a wide grin Geran took the object from his subordinate, turning back to his elven prisoner. He held it out as if to inspect it, and grinned mockingly when he saw the elf's eyes grow wide.  
  
"You see," he said friendly, stepping closer to Legolas and making sure that he could see every inch of the object displayed, "This is a kind of new invention. I know," he nodded his head with a smile as if he was having a nice little chat with a friend, "It looks like a normal whip, but as you can see if you look closely, it is not."  
  
A calm and detached part of Legolas' brain noted that the man sounded very much as if he wanted to sell him one of his new "inventions", and if his situation hadn't been as dire, he would even have laughed aloud at that thought.  
  
"No," Geran continued, oblivious to the other's thoughts, "As you can see, there are three tails, not only one, and they have these little ingenious spikes sewn in on the edges." He grinned again. "But the best parts are obviously the ends." He ran his fingers over the leather thongs until he reached the ends where metal lumps were attached, each about the size of a balled children's fist. "I am very proud of them, but, unfortunately, I have made the experience that men don't survive much more than two dozen lashes."  
  
Geran took a step back, still grinning at the elf.  
"I am very curious to see how long you will last."  
  
"You're insane," Aragorn stated coldly and stared hard at the man, ignoring his friend's pointed look that very clearly said that he should keep quiet, for Elbereth's sake. "Why are you doing this?"  
  
Geran stepped back another few feet and turned half to the side, looking at the other man.  
"Because I have my orders, ranger," he said and raised a mocking eyebrow. "And because I can."  
  
Aragorn was about to reply that that had got to be the sickest reason he had heard in a very long time when he caught Legolas' gaze that positively pleaded him not to say another word. He could probably survive this, the elven prince tried to convey without words, but he was rather sure that Aragorn wouldn't be so lucky if Geran's attention turned to the young man, no matter what Adruran had said about not killing them.  
  
Legolas barely noticed that one of the men had stepped closer and cut his shirt off his body, so busy was he staring at his human friend, berating himself for not going to greater lengths to perfect the _look_. Finally Aragorn lowered his eyes and nodded almost imperceptibly, and the elf gave an inward sigh of relief. The last thing he needed on his conscience was that Geran decided to use his little creation on the young ranger.  
  
The feeling of triumph that swept through him was rather short-lived, actually, since a few seconds later the first blow hit him, feeling eerily as if a horse had just kicked him into the back. That was, before the searing pain told him unambiguously that that couldn't be true, since a rather ill-humoured balrog was busy ripping the skin off his back right now. He was so startled by the intense pain that he might even have screamed aloud, but since he suddenly had no air left, nothing but a small gasp escaped him, something for which he was rather grateful.  
  
Before he had time to convince his lungs to co-operate again, the whip connected with his back once more, the spikes ripping through the skin of his back and causing crimson blood to well up. But somehow the blows of the metal lumps that smashed into his back and ribs were even worse, serving to drive the air out of his lungs and leaving him fighting for breath as well.  
  
Legolas grasped the post so tightly that he was sure his knuckles showed whitely through the skin, but since his vision seemed to blur and darken with every new blow that hit him, he couldn't be so sure about that. The fourth and fifth blow slammed his body forwards against the hard wooden spike, and another small gasp of pain escaped his lips. That was the moment his body decided to conserve as much energy as possible and use all its strength to survive this, and because his hearing faded into nothing, he didn't hear the scuffle that broke out behind him.  
  
Aragorn's readiness to comply with his friend's silent request not to interfere lasted for exactly three blows. When Geran drew back for the next strike, he decided that Legolas had no right asking this of him, that in fact no-one had the right to. He would _not _stand here and watch them do this to his friend, no matter how much Legolas wished him to. The young ranger knew that the elf only wanted to protect him, but he simply couldn't stay here and watch.  
  
Since his guards were very interested in what was happening in front of them, he managed to twist out of their grasp and slam his shoulder into the stomach of the one to his right, throwing the human hard to the ground. He whirled to the left, coming face to face with his other guard that had looked away unwillingly from his "entertainment" and stared at him unbelievingly. His reaction was a little too slow, however, and so he quickly joined his groaning companion on the ground, holding his head and wondering how exactly he had got there.  
  
Aragorn looked up a little bit startled and shook his head, trying to clear his vision from the blood that flowed freely from the old, nearly healed cut on his temple that had reopened when he had butted his head against the other man's.   
  
'Great,' he thought to himself, 'Now what are you going to do?'  
  
There was the small matter that he was still bound, and had absolutely nothing resembling a plan; he had acted merely on instinct. Before Geran and the other two men had time to react, he was rushing forwards, half hoping to be able to surprise the humans, when something rather heavy slammed into his back from behind, throwing him to the ground.  
  
Of course, he thought tiredly, waiting for the ringing in his ears to subside, he had forgotten about Hanar. He hadn't thought of him, so intent had he been on helping his friend.  
'Of course not,' the voice once again piped up, sounding eerily like Elladan. 'That is the problem, you are not thinking. You are _never _thinking.'  
  
Someone grabbed him by his bound arms and pulled him to his feet, and he looked up to meet Hanar's gleaming eyes before he was distracted by the long, curved dagger he held in his hand.  
"One reason, ranger," he man said quietly, placing the knife at his throat and pressing down, drawing a little blood. "Give me just one reason."  
  
Aragorn was very tempted to give him more than one reason, preferably a dozen in form of punches, but while the reasonable part of his brain was still explaining to him just why that would be a really stupid idea, Geran stepped closer, the now bloody whip still firmly in his grasp. The young ranger's eyes darted to the form of his friend who was now slumped in his bonds, his back ripped open and bleeding from about a dozen weals.  
  
Hot, burning fury coursed through him, almost stealing his breath away in its intensity. How dare these people hurt his friend like this, they were going to kill him if they kept going like…  
  
His thoughts were interrupted when a powerful blow connected with the side of his face, snapping his head to the side. Aragorn shook his head dazedly, running his tongue over the inside of his cheek where his teeth had cut the flesh open. That would become a colourful bruise, that much was sure…  
  
Geran grabbed him by the hair, forcing him to look him in the eye.  
"Don't do that again, ranger," he advised him friendly. "You are breaking my concentration. If you cause any more trouble, I will flog him within an inch of his life. Understood?"  
  
"You are killing him," the young ranger tried to make the other man see reason. "Not even elves can survive this for long!"  
  
Geran grinned at him, a cold, emotionless grin that made a cold shiver of fear run down Aragorn's back. He turned back to the bloodied figure of the fair haired elf that was trying to get back to his feet right now, eyes closed and face drawn with pain.   
  
"He doesn't have to, ranger," he said, cold eyes fixed taxingly on Legolas. "Half an hour will suffice, that is, in case you have to say something…" He trailed off, looking at the other man expectantly.  
  
Aragorn took a deep breath and stared straight ahead, unwilling to look at him. He would give his right hand to end this, to spare his friend this pain, but if he told them that they were here by a mere coincidence, they would be dead. Rather quickly, and judging by this man's expression, by rather ugly means too.  
  
Geran chuckled, grinning broadly.  
"I thought so."  
  
Hanar and another man took a firm hold of his arms and shoulders, and so the only thing Aragorn could do was watch helplessly as the man stepped closer to his friend once more and brought the whip down onto his unprotected back again and again.  
  
The leather found skin with a swishing sound, followed by dull thuds when the metal lumps impacted with the back or ribs. Legolas grabbed the pole in a grip so tight that his fingernails burrowed deeply into the wood, wishing for nothing more than that his elven strength would finally desert him and that he would lose consciousness. After another dozen lashes he couldn't remain silent anymore, and with every hit he took the elven prince cried out softly as the pain finally became too much.  
  
For Aragorn, it was the longest half hour of his life, although he strongly suspected that it felt much longer to Legolas. He was still struggling half-heartedly against his guards, but Geran's threat served to keep such tries feeble. He believed the other man when he said that it would only get worse for his elven friend if he tried to escape again, but every time he heard Legolas cry out the red haze that filled his vision grew and intensified until he could no longer see or hear anything but the swishing sounds of the whip and the soft sounds of pain that could be heard from his elven friend.  
  
He honestly couldn't remember having ever been this angry, not even when Cornallar had captured his father. To watch this … this man do this to Legolas was taking every ounce of strength he possessed.  
  
Just when he was sure that he would explode if he couldn't rip off Geran's head soon, the fair haired elf slumped forwards against the post, consciousness finally fleeing his body. Aragorn forgot every single word Geran had said, all his thoughts focused on the broken body of his friend.  
  
"Legolas!" With renewed vigour he tried to twist out of the men's restraining grasp, only thinking of reaching the blonde elf's side. "Legolas!!"  
  
A blow to his side left him gasping for breath, and Geran stepped closer to the elf, whip dangling nonchalantly from his left hand. With his right he grabbed a handful of pale golden hair and lifted the bound elf's head, looking into the pale face that looked white even against the glistening snow of their surroundings. A thin trickle of blood ran down his chin from his lower lip he had bitten to stop himself from crying out.  
  
"Almost five dozen lashes," Geran said quietly, nodding slightly to himself, "I am impressed." He shortly placed a hand under his captive's chin. "And he's even still alive."  
  
He said more, but Aragorn couldn't hear it over the pounding of blood in his ears. Legolas was still alive, thank Ilúvatar and all the Valar…  
  
Geran let go of the elf's hair and lazily wandered over to the ranger, twiddling the bloody whip in his hands. He took up his circling again which Aragorn ignored completely as he stared at his elven friend, torn between wishing him to move and wishing him to remain unconscious. A part of him wanted to see and hear himself that Legolas was alive, but another, bigger part wanted his friend to remain in blessed darkness as long as possible.  
  
"I wonder," Geran began, still circling the ranger that was held by Hanar and another man, "I wonder how long you would last, ranger." He stopped in front of the younger man, looking him in the eye.  
  
All he saw in the silver depths was hatred and an overwhelming fury, however, not the fear he did expect. This was not at all amusing, he decided, grinning slightly at his captive to mask his annoyance. Why weren't the two of them afraid? Where was the fun in the whole thing if your victims weren't afraid?  
  
"But then again," he continued, noting the look of utter disgust the ranger gave him and the whip he still held, "I don't think you would survive for long, and I wouldn't want to disobey my orders." He suddenly reached out and grasped the other man's chin, still grinning at him. "Are you even listening to me, ranger?" Geran ignored the burning glares Aragorn gave him and turned his head to the side, inspecting the forming bruise on his cheek.   
  
"You know what?" Geran asked, letting go of the young ranger's chin. "You bore me. Your friend was fun, but you are tiresome, that's all." He looked at the night sky, judging the positions of the stars. "I think I will have a look around and make sure we are not disturbed. I will be back in an hour, that should give us enough time to talk before Adruran returns."   
  
He turned and walked off, scarlet blood from the whip dripping onto the white snow. After a few moments he turned back and looked at Aragorn, mouth twisted into a smug smile.  
"I will leave you in Hanar's capable hands, I am sure you two will have a lot of fun."  
  
Aragorn blinked at the other man's retreating back, deciding that he would kill him in the near future. For these remarks alone he deserved death, he mused inwardly, trying to ignore Hanar who was coming closer, a malicious smile on his lips. He once again cursed their luck. He really didn't know how they got into all these situations all the time, there simply was no logical explanation for this…  
  
The cold steel of a knife was placed at his throat, and he looked up, straight into Hanar's eyes who looked very much as if he had just received a present he hadn't hoped to wish for but had got nonetheless, somehow. He didn't like that gleam one bit, he decided instantly. The other man simply kept smiling at him, which served only to increase the young ranger's nervousness and fear, and slowly moved his blade down the front of Aragorn's body, cutting open his shirt.  
  
That was another thing, Aragorn mused detachedly, shivering slightly in the cold night air, people not only kept insisting on yanking his head around or beating him without obvious reason, they kept destroying his clothing as well. This would make his father very unhappy, he decided when Hanar was slowly cutting open the bandages that still covered his torso. Elrond insisted that he superiorly held Imladris' record of destroyed tunics, coats and blankets, considering his age that was, of course. And if he had been bad as a child, he was even worse now, his elven father tended to claim, an expression of weary acceptance on his ageless features.  
  
His shivering increased when the bandages fell off, and only partly because of the chill of the wind. The expression in Hanar's eyes let him reconsider that statement; his father would never have the opportunity to be unhappy, since there was little chance that Legolas or he escaped to tell him about it…  
  
Hanar reached out with one hand and lightly ran his fingers over the nearly healed burns, even though the young ranger tried to scoot away from his touch. Two of the guards held him firmly in place, and he couldn't move more than an inch in any direction.   
When the other man was starting to burrow his fingers in the tender flesh of his chest, Aragorn closed his eyes and bit his lip so hard that he could taste blood. Eru, it hurt, and it only brought back memories he had thought he had left behind. Suddenly he was back in the warehouse with Lomar, and this time there was no Legolas or Celylith to save him…  
  
'Of course not!' a voice told him wearily. 'Legolas is unconscious, tied to a post, and Celylith is…'  
  
Dead, he finished the sentence inwardly, fury beginning to once again course through his entire being. His merry, silver haired friend was dead; he would never get the chance to see his father again or join the rest of his family in Valinor. He was dead, dead, dead, and he would never be reunited with Calowiël either, his sister about whom Celylith had spoken with so much pain and longing in his voice that it had touched Aragorn's heart deeply all these weeks ago.  
  
Hanar withdrew his now bloody hand, and Aragorn opened his eyes, fury blazing in their grey depths. He would not get lost in the past again, he swore to himself, glaring at the other man and doing his best to ignore the renewed pain that consumed his chest. He would make sure these men paid for slaying his friend, and he would get Legolas out of here, somehow…  
  
The other man unconsciously averted his eyes, taking a great interest in the burns he had just reopened.  
"Lomar has spent some time with you then, I see," he told his captive, beginning to grin again. "Well, let's see what we can come up with then, shall we?"  
  
Aragorn merely looked at him, silver eyes serious and dark, only the tiniest hint of pain in them.  
"You will all die for what you've done. It is simply a matter of time."  
  
Hanar wanted to retort something, but somehow he seemed to be unable to break the eye contact with the young ranger. Surely the boy had simply said that to intimidate him, to unsettle him, but when he looked into his eyes, all he could see was a fury so fierce that it seemed to fill all the space there. When he looked closer, there was also a calm seriousness; serenity instead of the false bravado he had expected, and with a pang of fear he realised that the other man meant what he had said. All he could see in these grey eyes was the promise of death, and it was made so calmly and confidently that it scared him a lot more than he wanted to admit.  
  
With a rather uneasy smile he turned away from his prisoner and walked over to the post the still elf was tied to. He grabbed him by the long hair and pulled his head up, checking if he was still unconscious. Satisfied that he wouldn't disturb his fun any time soon, he released the fair being's head that promptly connected with the hard wood with a dull thud. Grinning at the murderous look that the ranger gave him, he took up a small bag he had brought when Geran had sent him to fetch his whip.  
  
He slowly walked up to the ranger again, grinning even wider when he saw the quickly masked uncertainty flitter across his features.   
  
"You know," he began pleasantly, opening the bag when he stood in front of the other man, "I think these … burns, are they? … look quite bad. I really think we should do something to ward off infection." He fell silent for a second and looked at the young ranger, reaching into the leather bag and withdrawing his hand that glistered with white crystals in the firelight. "Salt will do that for you."  
  
Aragorn had barely enough time to understand what Hanar had just said before he felt the hands of the men that held him tighten on his forearms. A second later, the fire in his chest intensified tenfold, and he couldn't stifle a cry of pain when sharp, biting agony raced across his left side, plunging his world into sudden darkness.  
  
After a few moments, the agony receded to only unbearable pain and he began once again to pant for breath, hanging limply in his guards' grip while Hanar continued to rub salt into the opened burns.  
  
Finally, an excruciating eternity later, the man stopped, looking with dark, gleaming eyes at the young man who looked back at him, silver eyes unfocused and glazed with pain.  
  
"Perhaps you're right, ranger," he told Aragorn, leaning forward a little, "Perhaps we _are_ all going to die. But you and your little elven friend will go first, believe me."  
  
  
  
  
Frerin was still grumbling when they reached the bottom of the incline.   
  
He simply couldn't believe this, he ranted inwardly, here he was, a respectable dwarf, engaged to marry a beautiful dwarf maiden from the Iron Mountains in a few years, and what was he doing? He was scrambling down a mountain, in Aulë's name! And to make matters worse, he was scrambling down a mountain to get the body of a dead elf, an elf that they would never be able to get up to the path again without unduly jostling him.  
  
But that, he grumbled inwardly, was of course something his oh-so-perfect brother had forgotten in his ridiculous quest. Frór should really pay attention, he decided darkly, or he might wake up one day clean-shaven like a human babe…  
  
The four dwarves quickly made their way over to the large boulder where the elf's body lay, the stones not moving under their feet. They were all relatively young for their race, and even the youngest and most inexperienced dwarf knew how to walk on top of rocks without disturbing a single pebble.  
  
Frerin eyed the tracks the humans had left behind disdainfully. Even the most untrained eye could see that they had stumbled and fallen several times. He snorted softly. It was truly ridiculous how clumsy humans could be when faced with a small heap of stones.  
  
Just then they reached the large stone, and such thoughts were quickly driven from his mind. Great Mahal, he thought with a frown, this looked really bad.  
  
He eyed the broken body of the elf closely. Even thought he did not like elves, and certainly hadn't liked this one, he was sure that not even he had deserved such a death. Studying the bloody face, he decided that he wouldn't even have recognised him, hadn't he known whom to expect.  
  
"Well," he said quietly, suddenly reluctant to step closer, "At least it's not their king's son."  
  
"No," Frór agreed, carefully taking a step forwards, "It's his companion, what was his name again…"  
  
"Celdith," the youngest member of their party suggested. "Or something like that."  
  
"It's an elven name," the fourth dwarf shrugged dismissively.   
  
"It doesn't matter," Frór interrupted sternly. "Let's get him up the slope before a pack of wolves shows up and decides that we are a tasty meal."  
  
That made sense to all of them, and so they were soon standing around the still body of whatever-his-name-was, arguing how to get him up the incline. They were still arguing whether they should simply carry him up on one of their cloaks or whether they should cut down a few small trees when Nabur, the youngest dwarf, timidly interrupted their conversation from where he sat next to the elf's body.  
  
"Frór?"  
  
The leader of the patrol didn't even turn around for he was too busy staring at his stubborn brother.  
"Yes, Nabur?"  
  
"Elves are different from us, aren't they?"  
  
Now Frór did turn around, looking at him quizzically.  
"Of course they are, everybody knows that. They're a strange lot."  
  
"Oh," Nabur nodded, his still rather short beard moving swiftly up and down. "That explains it."  
  
Frór grunted and turned back to Frerin and the other dwarf, about to argue that they didn't have time to chop trees, when Nabur's words seemed to register in his brain. He turned back again, giving the young dwarf an exasperated look.  
"It explains what, young one?"  
  
The other dwarf smiled sheepishly and shrugged.  
"Well, you said they were different, so…"  
  
"So?" Frerin prompted, intrigued as well now.  
  
"So it explains why he is still breathing when he's dead."  
  
The three older dwarves stood there as if rooted to the spot, staring at their young companion who looked at them with wide, innocent eyes. Nobody spoke or moved for a second, but then they all rushed forward as one.  
  
"Breathing?" Frór asked, crouching down next to the elf. "Are you sure?"  
  
"Well, yes," Nabur nodded. "I almost missed it, but when you are sitting next to him for a few minutes you see it. So he is not dead at all?"  
  
Frerin shook his head, deciding that he would need to explain a few things to the lad, including that dead beings do not breathe, not even elves. He put a gnarly hand on the elf's throat and closed his eyes, trying to detect a heartbeat. For a long time he could feel nothing, and when he was just about to turn around and state that Nabur must have imagined things, he finally detected something, a very weak, very erratic beat that faded again almost at once.  
  
"Mahal!" he gasped, looking at his brother in shock. "He is right, the elf still lives!"  
  
Frór blinked twice before jumping to his feet and starting to give orders.  
  
"Nabur!" he spoke quickly and pressed his torch into the young dwarf's hand as he reached out and pulled him to his feet. "Run to the mountain as fast as you can and tell the Lord Ori what has happened here. Ask him to send a few men with ponies and a litter, the largest they have, and tell them to hurry. I don't know much about elves, but this one doesn't look as if he will survive much longer if we tarry here. Go!"   
  
The young dwarf nodded and moved as quickly as possible into the direction of the mountain path, the light of his torch soon disappearing in the distance. The blonde dwarf turned to the other dwarf in their party.  
"You will cut at least two young trees, but make sure they are straight and not too thick. We will need something like a litter to carry him up to the road, if we want him to survive, that is."  
  
The other nodded and dashed off into the direction of the nearest cluster of trees, close to the river's banks. Frór sighed and turned to his brother, looking at him questioningly.  
"So?"  
  
"So what?" Frerin shot back, eyes gleaming darkly under the rim of his helmet. "He's still alive, that is all I can tell you. Do I look like an elven physician?"  
  
"No," Frór grumbled irritated, turning the elf onto his stomach as carefully as he could. "You look like an idiot! Now come and help me, in Aulë's name!"  
  
Frerin looked at him unwillingly but obeyed, holding his torch over the body of the silver haired elf while his brother cut away the fabric around the dark shaft that protruded from the being's back, finally exposing the wound.  
  
Frór grimaced slightly, looking at the dark wood that had hit the elf in the middle of his back, just a little left of the spine.  
"This is bad," he announced unnecessarily, giving a soft, experimental tug on the arrow. "We can't remove it here, he would surely bleed to death if we would. Let's bandage it and get him to the mountain as quickly as we can, if he has a chance to survive, then it is there."  
  
The dark bearded dwarf nodded and began to hand him bandages from his pack. After a minute he looked at his brother, cocking his head to the side.  
"Don't you think we should bring him to Dale? They surely know more about elves than we do."  
  
Frór quickly shook his head.  
"It's too far, he would never make it there, I think. I will not be responsible for the war that will surely come to pass if we let him die or cannot find the other two."  
  
Frerin nodded thoughtfully, looking at the pale, bloody face of the elf.  
"What do you think happened to them?"  
  
His brother shook his head, his blonde beard swinging from side to side with the movement.  
"I don't know. I truly don't know."  
  
He finished wrapping the wound as best as he could and opted for not trying to clean the bruises and other injuries he could see, that would take too much time and could wait.  
  
"I don't know, brother. I just hope that he will live long enough to tell us."  
  
  
  
  
Legolas couldn't remember the last time he had been in this much pain. He was in fact not even sure if he ever _had _been in this much pain before at all, but since this train of thought neither helped him to get his mind off his body's discomfort nor to find a way out of this predicament as a whole, he abandoned it and leaned back, resting his head against the tent-pole he'd been tied to – again. The way he saw it, he already hurt so much that it hardly mattered if he leaned back or not.  
  
He quickly looked over to where Aragorn was bound in a similar fashion to the other pole of the tent they occupied, which was slightly larger so it had two main poles instead of one. The young ranger was still unconscious, and in Legolas' opinion that was for the best as well. He didn't know what exactly they had done to his friend, but judging by the gleeful expression on Hanar's face when he himself had woken up again, it had been neither painless nor over quickly.  
  
The elven prince bit his already split lip and suppressed a wince when he remembered the past hours, and once again vowed that he would kill these men for all they had done to Aragorn … and Celylith…  
  
He lowered his head and closed his eyes, intense grief once again stealing over him and making his body hurt even more, something which he had thought highly improbable, if not entirely impossible.  
  
He would kill them, and he would start with Geran … or with Hanar, he wasn't that picky…  
  
  
_Legolas was attempting to find enough energy to shake his head to clear it of some of the pain and confusion that seemed to have invaded his thoughts, but failed miserably.   
In fact, he hadn't even the strength to lift his head, and not even the burning fury that coloured his every thought seemed to be able to aid him.  
  
He didn't know how long ago he had awoken, for he had spent quite some time floating between unconsciousness and reality, or what he thought was reality. Because if it wasn't, it was the worst and at the same time most realistic nightmare he had ever had, a nightmare he was more than willing to wake up from.  
  
By now he was even able to identify what had woken him: Somebody's soft cries of pain, and now that he thought about it, he was rather sure that they were Aragorn's. Under normal circumstances the mere presumption that someone was hurting his human friend would have proven to wake him up in an instant, but, unfortunately, these weren't normal circumstances.   
  
Not even Estel's sounds of distress could pull him back to awareness completely, and when the cries finally stopped, Legolas wasn't sure whether or not he should be relieved. After some time he gave up on that thought and concentrated on fighting his way back to consciousness, but his body had apparently decided to rebel against him and the tyranny of a mind that was so obviously not looking after it properly and stubbornly refused to obey his commands.  
  
So now here he was, still tied to that pole for all he knew - and judging by the pain in his wrists that now supported the weight of his entire body, a task for which they had never been designed, and was trying to find out what was going on here. His back and ribs hurt so fiercely that he was sure that there wasn't a patch of undamaged skin left, and his head throbbed mercilessly from a wound he couldn't even remember sustaining.  
  
Suddenly, sounds seemed to assault his ears, but since his hearing wasn't working properly yet, he wasn't sure if they were real or if he was imagining them.  
  
"...still alive? The elf?"  
  
Another voice mumbled what was probably an answer, and a moment later a terrible cold washed over him, serving to bring him to reality in a flash. He moaned softly and spluttered as a cold liquid ran over his face and torso, only now realising that the men had emptied a bucket of ice cold water over him.  
  
At least it woke him up completely, and when a hand tangled in his hair and jerked his head up, he managed to open his eyes which, after a short, rebellious pause, fixed reluctantly on the emotionless face of Adruran.  
  
"My, my, my, you were right Geran," he said to someone on his right, but Legolas neither had the inclination nor the strength to turn his head and look for the other man. "So they are both still alive, I must admit I am somewhat surprised."  
  
Legolas' eyes began to slide shut, enormous relief washing over him. Aragorn wasn't dead, he was merely unconscious, thank Ilúvatar…   
  
The hand's grip tightened, and the fair haired elf suppressed another moan of pain. Even his hair hurt, another thing he had never known to be possible.  
"No, elf, stay awake! You have some questions to answer! Who else knows that you are here? Is your king coming to Dale?" Adruran's voice sounded beyond annoyed now. "Great Ones, answer me!"  
  
The elven prince was beginning to drift off again, but a blow to his ribs brought him back quickly. His eyes snapped open with a moan, and he decided that Geran's little invention had broken at least one rib on this side of his chest.  
  
Adruran lifted his head a little higher, turning him slightly so he could see the bloody, twisted and thankfully unconscious figure of his human friend that lay on the snow covered ground.   
"Look at your friend, elf! Do we really have to wake him? I grow tired of these games, I'll admit that freely, but I think Hanar can go on for quite some time yet! The question is, can he?"  
  
For a moment, Legolas was actually very tempted to simply tell them that it all had been a coincidence, nothing but the worst luck of the past age. Fortunately, his common sense returned to life before he could open his mouth, telling him clearly that that would be their death sentence. Adruran and his men would kill them without a second thought, and __no-one __would be standing in the way of their plans. No-one would know what had happened here, and no-one would avenge Celylith's death.  
  
No, he decided, drawing a little strength from this decision, he would not tell them, not after what Aragorn and he had gone through to keep this secret. As long as they were still alive there was hope and the chance of escape, and he would get his friend out of this, somehow…  
  
The elven prince looked past Adruran at the prone body of his friend, vowing that he would kill all of them for what they had done to him. What he could see of Aragorn's body was bruised and bloodied, and there were traces of something white glistening on his chest…  
  
Legolas turned his eyes on the brown haired man in front of him, silver-blue orbs boring into dark ones and all the fury he felt lying in his gaze when he spoke with a voice rough and hoarse with pain.  
  
"You and Hanar can go and visit Angband for all I care. Neither I nor him will tell you anything."  
  
He closed his eyes, and things got rather unpleasant from then on._  
  
  
A soft moan brought him back to the present, and Legolas opened his eyes to look at his human friend who was attempting to do the same right now. The elven prince leaned forward as much as his bonds would allow him, calling out softly to the man so the guards outside the tent wouldn't hear him.  
  
"Estel! It is alright, you can wake up now, my friend. Come now, wake up! Please!"  
  
Slowly, the young ranger's eyelids fluttered open, and he stared at the blurry figure in front of him until it shifted into focus, allowing him to identify his companion.  
  
"If this is 'alright'," he whispered in a hoarse, pain-filled voice, "Then I would truly hate to see what you consider 'bad', _mellonamin_."  
  
Legolas grinned broadly, ignoring the fact that this reopened the cut in his lower lip.  
"It can always…"   
  
"…get worse," Aragorn finished his sentence, starting to nod and freezing when pain shot through his temples. "That reminds me of something my brothers used to say."  
  
"What was that?" Legolas asked, more than willing to take his mind off their current situation for a moment.  
  
"It was a saying," the young ranger explained, grimacing when his body started to make his injuries known to him. "It went something like this: 'And out of the chaos a voice spoke to me, saying: Smile and be merry, for it could always get worse.'"  
  
He lifted his head and grinned at his elven friend, wondering inwardly how it came that they were really able to joke in such a situation.  
"'And I smiled and was merry, and it did get worse.'" He blinked slowly and added, "I think we can make that our motto, don't you think?"  
  
Legolas gave his friend an amused look.  
"I can see a certain parallel there, yes." The fair haired elf's amusement turned to concern in a matter of seconds. "How are you, Estel? What did they do to you?"  
  
Aragorn's grin faded quickly.  
"I am fine, considering the circumstances. I can still walk – I think."  
  
The elven prince simply gave him the _look_, a rather convincing version by the way.  
"Estel."  
  
The young ranger took a deep breath and closed his eyes.  
"Nothing as bad as what they did to you. They just beat me and had some 'fun' with their knives. Nothing that won't heal in a few weeks."  
  
Legolas' keen eyes wandered quickly over his friend's body, and now that he knew what he was looking for, he could see the slashes that marred the young man's chest and back and that were nearly hidden by the remnants of his ruined shirt and cloak and the dried blood that seemed to be everywhere.  
  
"There is something … white on your chest, a powder or something," Legolas stated simply, looking at the ranger's bruised face.  
  
A grimace flittered over Aragorn's face, too quickly for Legolas to identify.  
"Salt."  
  
Legolas felt his fury go up yet another notch when he heard the barely whispered word, his heart going cold when he imagined what that Hanar had done to his friend and how much it must have hurt him.  
"I will kill them, that I swear in Elbereth's name," he hissed fiercely, temporarily forgetting his own pain.  
  
Aragorn simply nodded and eyed the elven prince closely. He couldn't see Legolas' back from here – something he was rather thankful for, since he was sure that it wasn't something he wanted to see – but on his elven friend's face and chest there were bruises he could not remember. "How are _you_? Be warned, if you say 'fine' I will do something horrible to you in the near future."  
  
Legolas resisted the temptation to do just that and smiled slightly which turned into a grimace quickly when his bruised face let him know what exactly it thought of things such as smiling.  
"I will heal, I suppose."  
  
The dark haired ranger sighed dramatically and glared at his friend.  
"That does not answer my question, stubborn elf. What happened?"  
  
Legolas resented himself to the fact that Aragorn would annoy him until he had told him everything that had transpired.  
"When I woke up, you were already unconscious," he began, deciding that that was stretching the truth just a little bit. "A bit later Adruran came back and he … well, he wasn't very happy that I didn't want to answer his questions."  
  
"They beat you." Aragorn's voice was soft and matter-of-factly.  
  
"Yes," Legolas admitted. "I … well, it didn't last too long though since I wasn't really conscious, and after a while they decided that they were wasting their time with us and brought us here."  
  
The young human nodded as far as his aching head would permit him.  
"How bad is it?"  
  
That was something Legolas wasn't sure about himself, so he decided to assume the best.  
"I may have some broken ribs, but apart from that not too bad, I think."  
  
Now it was Aragorn's turn to look incredulously.  
"Please, Legolas."  
  
The elf shrugged lightly and sighed.  
"Truly, my friend, I do not know. The back's quite bad though, I suppose."  
  
That must be the understatement of the century, Aragorn thought wryly, remembering what his friend's backside had looked like, ripped open so deeply that you could see the whiteness of a rib shining through now and then…  
  
Wrenching his thoughts away from that topic since it only served to increase his feelings of anger and helplessness, he stated quietly,  
  
"So they have decided that we won't tell them anything."  
  
"Yes," Legolas nodded. "It appears that their 'visit' to the Lake-men's camp was successful. They have captured the Lake-men and will have found all of the treasure in a few days. I think they will be gone soon, so it doesn't really matter to them anymore."  
  
"Then why are we still alive?" Aragorn wondered. "I would have thought they would have killed us instantly."  
  
The elven prince grinned wryly.  
"To be honest, Estel, I do not think I want to know." He cocked his head to the side, listening briefly. "But I think we are about to find out."  
  
Aragorn strained to hear what his elven friend already had, and really, there were footsteps coming closer that crushed the snow loudly, footsteps of at least five men, if he heard correctly. Right now it wouldn't have surprised him if he had taken the footsteps of an orc for those of a hobbit though, so he resented himself to the fact that he would have to wait and see.  
  
After a few seconds the front flaps of the tent were thrown aside, and Adruran stepped into the small space, followed by Geran, Hanar and four other men.   
'Seven all in all,' Aragorn nodded inwardly. 'Not too bad.'  
  
The tall, brown haired man stopped at the entrance, looking at them with something akin to exasperation, as if looking at two stubborn, headstrong children.  
"As you probably already have guessed," Adruran began slowly, "We have no more use for the two of you."  
  
Aragorn forced himself to keep looking calmly at the other man. So this was it, he thought inwardly. He had never thought he would die like this, trussed up like an animal waiting to go to slaughter…  
  
Legolas decided that, if they were about to die, he could at least find out why.  
"So you're only interested in the money." He shook his head in disgust. "You are ready to kill so many for gold and other dead things?! How very human! What would you or your master want to do with it? You will not even be able to get it away from here."  
  
He shot Aragorn a quick look, receiving an almost imperceptible nod in return. Maybe Adruran would tell them something if they kept taunting him.  
  
The older man however was not willing to divulge much of his plan to them.  
"A nice try, Master Elf," he smiled almost friendly, "But I am not stupid enough to fall for that. All you need to know is that yes, my master desires this treasure and that I am planning to bring him what he wants. The growing hostilities between Erebor and Dale are only an added bonus, although your sudden appearance has most likely put a stop to that."  
  
Adruran leaned forward a little, giving both of his captives a serious look.  
"I truly wish that you had never come here, this whole episode is highly unnecessary in my opinion."  
  
"Believe me," Aragorn said quietly, studying the older man emotionlessly. "So do I."  
  
"That, ranger, I do believe," the other man said and shook his head slightly. "However, it is too late for these thoughts now. As I said, you are a liability, one I do not intend to let me slow down."  
  
He took a step back and looked at his captives, eyes dark and not betraying his thoughts.  
"You should have talked, this way it would have been over quickly." He turned and gave his men a sign to cut the two prisoners loose and get them to their feet. "But, as I said: Have it your way."  
  
Aragorn and Legolas traded nervous looks when they were brought outside, or rather dragged outside, since they both needed some time to convince their bodies to co-operate. The young ranger's feelings almost developed into a full-fledged panic when he realised that they were being led away from the camp, their guards pushing them after Hanar and Geran who looked very much as if they had just won the entire treasure for themselves.  
  
'This is not good, not good at all,' he repeated inwardly, attempting not to stumble when one of the men behind him gave him a shove in the back. He shivered in the cold morning air, paying no attention at all to the glorious sunrise. His slashed shirt and cloak did little to protect him from the biting chill of the wind, and he briefly wondered how much worse it had to be for Legolas who had only his nearly ruined cloak to keep him warm and that was rent and torn in so many places that Aragorn was sure that the elven tailor who had made it would have a fit if he ever saw it again. But then again, Legolas was an elf of course, and didn't freeze as easily as humans did.  
  
His thoughts began to spin faster and faster in his head the farther they got away from the camp. He was sure that Adruran intended to kill them, but why didn't they just do it in the camp? It would have been a lot easier to cut their throats there, a sarcastic voice in his head noted.  
  
While he was still trying to silence that particular voice – dark thoughts he already had in abundance, thank you very much – they drew nearer to the foothills of the nearby Lonely Mountain, and to Aragorn's surprise his panic even increased when Hanar turned slightly and sent him a gleeful grin. He stared back at the man until he averted his eyes, deciding inwardly that he really did not want to know what had put him into such a good humour  
  
That wish went unheeded though, for after they had followed the rock walls for some time, they stopped at the mouth of a dark cave. Said cave seemed to make the guards exceedingly nervous, yet another thing that Aragorn added to his ever growing not-good-list. The young ranger tried to suppress claustrophobic memories that washed over him when he merely looked at the opening that was just big enough for a grown man to step through. With some surprise he noted that Geran was speaking to him, and fought to listen to his words.  
  
"…you see, ranger? This even gives you something of a chance."  
  
Chance, he thought confused, what chance? Before he could ask Geran what in Ilúvatar's name he was talking about, Legolas' voice spoke up, sounding angry beyond measure.  
  
"Chance? What kind of chance is that supposed to be? You want to put him in there??"  
  
Oh no, Aragorn thought, muscles tensing at the mere thought. He couldn't go in there! It would be just like in Eskadol, the darkness would swallow him whole, he couldn't go in there, he couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't…  
  
The rushing blood in his ears was nearly enough to drown out all the sounds around him, but he dimly heard Geran's answer.  
  
"Oh, yes, Master Elf," the man said, turning to the fair being that looked very much as if he was contemplating how exactly he would be killing him if he ever got the chance. "You know, I have something else planned for you, and we can't have him disturb that; it would ruin the game."  
  
"Game?" Legolas spat, ignoring his guards that were tightening their grips on him. "This is no game!"  
  
"Ah, but it is," Geran chuckled "You'll see. But first we need to get rid of your little friend."  
  
The two men that held Aragorn began to push him forward, and when Legolas' eyes darted to the entrance of the cave, he noted the two crude struts that were supporting the entrance, as if it had been an old mining shaft once, which was rather likely this close to Erebor. Just when the men dragged his human friend over to the mouth of the cave, Legolas understood what they meant to do.  
  
"No!" He tried to twist out of his guards' grip, but he was too weak to put up a real fight and the humans quickly subdued him. "You cannot do that!"  
  
Geran gave him a cold smile, fingering one of the poles while his men pushed the resisting young ranger into the cave.  
"It appears I can, Master Elf. Do not worry, he will die soon."  
  
Aragorn was trying with all his might to break free, which was not nearly enough in his current state.  
"Legolas!" he called, eyes wide and filled with panic and memories, begging him for help.  
  
The elven prince once again began to fight against the men's restraining hands, inwardly seething that he was too weak to deal with two humans. One of Aragorn's guards still held him in place just inside the cave, while Hanar and another man loosened the struts that held the weight of the stone above the entrance.  
  
Legolas stared with wide at his human friend that looked very close to actually panicking now. Damn these men, he thought angrily, why a cave? This was the last thing Aragorn needed right now… He took a deep breath and stopped fighting against his guards, it would be futile anyway and only deplete his strength. Somehow he needed to calm his friend down, needed to make sure that he wouldn't lose his head in there until he could help him…  
  
"Estel!" he spoke loudly and as calmly as he could, trying to get through to his friend. He continued in Elvish, not willing to let these people understand what they talked about. _"Estel! Lasto! Telithon dal le, gweston!"_  
  
Aragorn stared at him with wide eyes, obviously trying to combat the panic that was beginning to envelop his entire being, and so he added, _"Ú-awarthathon le, Estel, estelio nin."_  
  
The young man's eyes clung to Legolas' face and he slowly nodded, just before the men pulled away the struts.  
_"Derithon al le, Legolas."_  
  
Before he had even spoken the last word, his guard stepped hastily out of the cave, and Hanar gave him a hard shove that send him flying backwards, deeper into the darkness. A mere second later the struts were withdrawn, and large boulders were beginning to fall, sealing off the entrance of the cave.  
  
"Strider!" Legolas called, instinctively trying to rush forward and come to his friend's aid. "Estel!!"  
  
Geran turned to him and shrugged, grabbing the elven prince's upper arm and pulling him away from the blocked cave entrance.  
"You would do best to forget about him, if he isn't dead yet, he will soon be. Let's get to our own game, shall we?"   
  
Legolas was dragged off into the direction of a small cluster of trees that could be seen some distance away down the slope, and therefore had little time to ponder what exactly Geran had meant by that. He nearly stumbled and had to concentrate all his thoughts on staying upright and keeping up with the men, trying to ignore his fiercely hurting back as best as possible. He would come back, he would get Aragorn out of there, somehow, he would not leave him there…  
  
Inside the cave, the stones slowly settled down. Dust still hung thickly in the air, and smaller stones and pebbles continued to fall. After some time, a small pile of stones began to move and to utter some curses that would have earned anyone who had spoken them in polite company – or any company for that matter – at least shocked glances, if not a punch to the face.  
  
Aragorn continued to try and free himself of the rubble, cursing under his breath and asking himself how it was possible for a human being to feel so much pain at once and still be conscious. He had landed on his burnt left side when Hanar had pushed him, and that pain alone had almost been enough to make him lose consciousness. And now there was what felt like about a ton of debris on top of him, he thought grimly, and it was … dark.  
  
Elbereth, how dark it was! There was no light filtering through cracks in the pile of stones, only darkness, black, suffocating, all-consuming darkness that threatened to pull him even deeper into despair.  
  
'Stop it,' he told himself firmly, pushing himself into a sitting position and cursing even more fiercely when he realised that his arms were of course still tied behind his back, 'Legolas will come back for you, it is only a matter of time. He promised he would, and he has never broken a promise before. All you have to do is hold on…'  
  
Aragorn slowly, painstakingly managed to get to his feet, leaning against a cave wall for support. One of the bigger rocks seemed to have hit his ribcage, and he didn't even waste time contemplating whether the ribs were broken or not. It did hardly matter, and they hurt just the same.  
  
Wonderful, he mused inwardly, now he only needed to find a way to get his bonds off and then he could lean back and wait for Legolas. The thought of his elven friend did not exactly serve to improve his mood. What was Geran planning? What did he want with Legolas?  
  
The young ranger forcefully took his mind off that topic and was trying to ignore his body that was very clearly stating that it had had enough for today and was more than ready to rest for a while, preferably an age or two, when he heard it: The sound of someone or something breathing heavily, somewhere deeper in the cave.  
  
Aragorn froze, thinking that the darkness was already getting to him and he was starting to imagine things, but then he heard it again: Someone's or something's breathing that seemed to be getting louder by the second, and this time he was sure that he was not imagining things.  
  
There was no doubt about it: There was something else in this cave, and judging by the low growl that could be heard now, it was none too pleased to have its rest disturbed.  
  
  
  
  
  
**TBC...  
  
  
  
  
  
** _mellonamin - my friend  
Estel! Lasto! - Estel! Listen!  
Telithon dal le, gweston - I will come back to you, I promise  
Ú-awarthathon le, estelio nin - I will not abandon you, trust me  
Derithon al le - I will wait for you  
  
  
  
  
_**Well, to all the people who actually thought I'd killed** **Celylith: Hello? How stupid do you think I am? I mean, I haven't not done it because I am kind-hearted or anything, nor because I want to spare Legolas mental anguish, but because I love being alive, and I am a little bit afraid of the Celylith Lives Foundation. *shakes head* A vicious crowd, them... Well, hang on for the next chapter which will be here on ... hm, Tuesday or Wednesday, I think! What about a review? Please? 'Cause I was so nice and let him live? Pretty Please??  
  
  
  
**

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**Additional A/N:  
  
Raven-of-a-Took - **Wow, that must have been quite a marathon then! Congrats! *g* I have to admit the flagpole threat was not bad, that's at least a 7.9 on my death threat score, even thought the stuck-in-Mordor-with-a-sign-round-my-neck is even better. *g* And of course I like death threats, what kind of author doesn't? Thanks a lot for the review!  
**Halo** - *g* I hate youn too, Halo. I see you have spelt realise with a 's' too - I'm still not over that one! *g* And see if I care whether or not you go and see PotC with me - I have lots of people here who want to go with me! *g* J/k... Ah! Not the hair! Not the hair! I will do whatever you want to, even save Celylith, but not my hair! *g* See? He's fine, Jeez...  
**Imbefaniel** - You called me an evil bitch? That's definitly NOT nice! But I'll see what I can do about the Geran death thing - I haven't written that one yet, but I will take it under consideration... *g* Uhm ... *splutters* ... I don't know, your Ex sounds rather strange - you sure he is harmless? And I'm sure everything's already better now, isn't it? At least I hope so.  
**Coreinha** - *dodges newspaper* Now I know what a dog feels like! *g* Besides, I'm not bad, I'm evil, I still think there's a difference! LOL, 'make him not dead'? Well, I'll see what I can do about that! *g* And congrats on the pics! You look great!  
**Aratfeniel** - What certain someone could you have been talking about? I don't know... *g* And I think you're right, had Legolas been killed, there would definitely be reason for concern... And who said that Geran would be uninventive? Just wait, and Hanar isn't that conventional either - I hope!  
**Amelie** - I didn't promise, and if I did, I lied, okay? That's what I am, evil, you know... *looks at her twitching* Well, you should calm down, I think, that's right, calm down... And I am really afraid that Geran will touch Legolas, more or less, anyway - but then again, where would be the fun if he didn't? But I'll see what I can do about his death, I am sure that something can be arranged... *g* But I think there's a flaw in you reasoning: You see, when I wrote the A/N for chapter 5, I hadn't even planned father than chapter 10 and was still intending to send Celylith back to the palace. The storylines evolve quite a bit while I'm writing them. And Celylith wouldn't be able to do much if he survived with an arrow in his back, now would he? I mean, elf or not, there are some limitations, right?  
**Lina - ***evil grin* Well, that's the question really, did I or didn't I? I hope you aren't _really_ crying - I mean, it's only a story after all! But I'll admit that it was pointless except for the fun I had while doing it! And as long as Zam is only crying - what's your problem? I have rabid readers out there after my blood... *evil cackle* Oh, how could I ... being evil helps, I guess...  
**Jack Sparrow1** - Yeah, about the revenge - let's just say that I really think that Legolas too has other things on his mind than exacting revenge on _Aragorn_... *g* Great you like it so much, thanks for reviewing!  
**LOTRFaith** - You are another one of these people - violence never solved anything! And yes, I am planning to kill most of them - I am not yet sure about one or two of them, but most of them will die, I think. LOL, I like the skinning-then-burying-bit! But it's winter and the ground is frozen solid, so the burying part might be a little bit tricky... *g* Thanks for the funny review!  
**Reginabean** - Snarl? You're snarling? Well, that is NOT a good sign... And I have the sinking feeling that you could get quite a bit of support for that Whack-a-Nili-Club of yours, at least at the moment! *hides behind her balrog* It's just a story, Jeez...  
**BlackRose1356** - Nope, not even a little hint! *g*  
**Zam** - Well, that you would go into denial was to be expected - you did the same with Nólad, I can very well remember... Who, btw, did have a dramatic death scene! And please, could you just consider not killing my villains before the time? I really need them for a little bit longer... *evil grin* *pats her back* That's the spirit, dear, there's always hope!  
**Lina AND Zam** - Gosh, you guys really took this chapter a bit too seriously, didn't you? I mean, look at yourselves... *g* I have to admit that the mere thought of having angered BOTH of you is truly terrifying - as is your Army of Doom Inc. I especially liked the One Squirrel's army, that's a real scary thought... LOL, Lina, as a hobbit, dressed in a Rohirric armour? That is past terrifying and downright I don't know what... *grabs bowl of ice cream* No, no hard feelings, guys - if this is double chocolate ice cream with chocolate cookies and sauce, I am prepared to forgive anything... *g*  
**Alilacia** - *grrr* I still haven't seen it, but I will soon! *shakes fist* Nobody will stop me! And I KNOW! It's past hot! It's suffocating, or it was - now it's a lot nicer and cooler, although I got a sunburn - again... *sighs* Yes, Aragorn is quite mad at the moment, and Hanar's bad news indeed... So you're close to Plymouth? I've never been there, but I am planning to someday - I loved all these Hornblower stories when I was younger, and since the fleet was always leaving from Plymouth... *g* I hope they're not giving you too much trouble at work, sometimes these people can be just SO annoying! *g*  
**Dragonfly32** - Yes, how to save Celylith - and you're right we should really do that, since Legolas IS quite heartbroken at the moment... *g* And you're right again, sooner or later Adruran and Co. are going to regret having ever laid hands on them. Thanks a lot for reviewing!  
**TrinityTheSheDevil** - Uhm, I think you are taking the whole barbecuing thing a bit too far - no roasting the author! You hear me? That is very bad for my imagination! And you are horrible! You should be grateful that Geran chose to have some 'fun' with Legolas instead of Aragorn - but no, you're complaining... But don't wory, there's still Hanar, isn't there? You guys are really sick, not even I enjoy ranger pain that much... *g*  
**A Person** - I made you sad? Sorry, I didn't mean to, really... And believe me, I thought about killing Legolas, but I think I REALLY wouldn't have survived THAT, even though I quite wanted to... And if you want me to write the whole rest at once, you would have to wait, since I am only two chapters ahead at the moment, so cliffies aren't that bad, are they?  
**Maranwe1** - Ah yes, denial - a wonderful thing... *evil grin* And I agree, Remus was fun too, even if not to the same extent as Sirius, I'm afraid. LOL, intimidating bad guys can indeed be lots of fun, especially if it's the only thing you can do... Finally! Someone who 'likes' Adruran! I like him too, at least a little bit, and I'm not yet sure what to do with him. *shrugs* We'll see. *rubs hands* Oh, so many nice adjectives, just for me! Thank you very much! And thanks for the review, I hope you'll decide to review again!  
**Sr** - I know! Miki's having trouble with her account - but I don't really believe she'd be updating anyway... *g* I hope this was soon enough? Thanks a lot for reviewing!  
**Elladan **- Well, I'll admit that the whole thing wasn't particularly nice, no, but I am an EVIL author, I don't do nice things, or not very often... *g* Uhm, you don't have to get down on hands and knees, just read on, okay? *gives her funny look*   
**Firnsarnien - **So you're the leader now, huh? You guys are really dangerous, you know that? Orcs will tenderise me? That's not very nice, you do realise that that would seriously impair with my ability to write and post?! *g* And yes, I _can_ hide! Essex is quite big, you know, you will never find me! Plus I have two very dangerous dogs with me! Mhahahahaha!  
**Mouse5** - Well, I don't know about that yet, it appears to take a bit longer than three chapters. I don't know yet how long exactly, but a bit, I think... These characters just refuse to shut up. *g* And right now I'm thinking about the Geran-Legolas-fight, perhaps I'll do something like that. *g* Perhaps.  
**Strider's Girl** - Evil? Yes! I AM evil, and I'm enjoying it immensely... How can I be so mean to you? Hm, let me see: I'm evil? Yes, I think that's it, it helps quite a lot, actually... *evil grin* And you want Estel owies? Alright, Ma'am, coming up now!  
**Shadow Warrior** - Yes, Legolas is in a bit of trouble now - as is Estel, so I may be mean, but at least I'm fair. Great you liked this chapter, despite the whole Celylith thing! Thanks for reviewing!  
**TrustingFriendship** - Well, Celylith would definitely need elven healing powers, you're right there. *huggles Legolas* Yes, the poor little elven prince is quite sad at the moment indeed, and he just might get a little bit angry. *grins evilly* Just a little bit of course. Great you still like the story! *huggles her as well*  
**Vampy2k** - *shrugs* I'll just stop commenting on Celylith, I think. I'm glad you like him though. And I'm sorry to disapoint you, but neither the twins nor Elrond will be back in this story, I'm afraid. They're in Rivendell right now and they're going to stay there for the winter, but I'm thinking about putting them and Glorfindel into the next story, what do you think? *g*   
**Sirithiliel** - I know! I'm never particularly nice, am I? And, my friend, the whole thing about cliffies is to leave the readers in suspense, I'm afraid! *g* I hope the update was soon enough so it wasn't TOO bad for you?!  
**Surreal13** - *g* Thanks! I found it quite hard to write that scene, since Tolkien didn't really say much about the whole breaking-heart-dying-of-grief-bit... *huggles her* Indeed! I _am_ evil! Somebody noticed! Thanks for your review!  
**CrazyLOTRfan** - *smiles* I knew you would like it! And no, they didnt exactly NEED more bad things to happen to them, but admit it, you like it! And not only because of the cliffy potential... *evil grin* And you're right, Thranduil will most likely not come, with or without army, since he really doesn't have a reason to, now has he? *shakes head* Would make things a lot easier, though...  
**Elenora1** - Yes, the suspense - I love it! *evil grin* And, according to other reviewers, the shrieking is perfectly normal, since only a few people truky _like_ cliffies. I do, but you can't expect everybody else to share your strange likings... *g* I have a devilish mind? *huggles her* Thanks a lot! That's a very nice thing to say! And thanks a lot for reviewing too!  
**LadySandrilene2** - I do not only claim to enjoy death threats, I really do! I don't know either, I just do... Aragorn/Legolas H/C is quite a nice thing, I agree. And you're right, he's provoking Hanar to distract attention from Legolas - which goes under brave, but stupid. *g* Well, Rashwe ... to be honest, I haven't exactly thought about that yet, since I most certainly am not obsessed with horses. I had almost forgotten about it, but I'll think of something. *shrugs* That's the problem if you don't really like a character, you keep forgetting about them...   
**E** - Well, I would have the heart to kill Celylith, but the bravery ... that's the thing. The Celylith Lives Foundation is truly evil and very threatening... *g* And rabid reviewers are a very real danger right now ... *looks about her nervously* ... they are everywhere...  
**Angel** - Yes, I definitely do! Enjoy being evil, I mean... So you like the story this far? Great, and thanks for reviewing!  
**Emerald-Eyed Elf** - I don't really know, I don't think Adruran has lost his marbles. I mean, he wants answers, and Geran is more than prepared to make sure that he gets them. But you're right, if they knew they are invoking the wrath of the reviewers, they would probably think again... *evil grin* I'm trying to keep the canon intact as far as possible, with some small exceptions (for example the Gilraen matter), since I really hate the many non-canon stories out there - again, with some exceptions... *g* Keep your DCR away from me and I promise to think about keeping Aragorn in one piece. Think, mind you. *g*  
**Alex Mistress Squirrel** - *nods sadly* They do seem to attract this kind of situations, don't they? I hope you'll like this bit as well, but to find out just how exactly they are going to get out of this one, you will have to wait a bit longer, I'm afraid... *g*  
**Critternut** - Well, that's what I'm thinking right now too - quite a lot of people were a bit upset by the last chapter... And YES, Johnny Depp is hot, although I can't say for PotC - and I'll admit that he looks quite funny with all the mascara there... *shrugs* See, I don't think that Legolas is hot. I think Orlando Bloom per se is okay, but as Legolas he just looks effeminate and gay. *shrugs again* Everybody has his or her favourites...   
**Tapetum Lucidum** - They _are_ insane, aren't they? *g* So what do you mean, Yay that Adruran left Geran with Legolas or No? Make up your mind! LOL, Aragorn is 'too crispy'? Well, I don't think that they will really see it your way... *evil grin* Mhahahaha, oh yes, Thranduil will be very angry indeed once he finds out - if he finds out that is...  
**One15** - Mhahaha, du wuerdest mich hier nie finden! Ich habe Freunde und Bekannte ueberall, ich werde einfach untertauchen! Mhahahahahahaha! Und das mit Mandos und Manwe waere ein wenig uebertrieben, lies einfach mal weiter... *g* LOL, 'aba dalli-dalli'? Ich hoffe doch, das hier ist schnell genug? *g*  
**Musical Misfit** - Thanks for you compliments, but Marmite is simply disgusting, and so are Bovril and Vegemite. It's all the same. Horrible stuff, simply disgusting... *g* Thanks a lot for your review! They really encourage me, a lot!  
**Fliewatuet** - Yes! I am evil, and I relish it! Mhahahahahaha! *takes a dep breath* Sorry about that, happens all the time... And you're right, I am really expecting the Celylith Lives Foundation to come rushing through my front door any second now - _they_ are evil, that's what they are... *g* Thanks for all your reviews, btw!  
**Stacee Phelps** - Yes, everybody seems to want more chapters - days would need to have at least 36 hrs. each, then I could do something about that... *g* Thanks for reviewing!  
**Nilbrethiliel** - *g* Wusste ich's doch, dass dir das mit dem Gesicht aufgefallen ist... Aber mal keine Angst, wenn er ueberlebt, dann werden ihm seine elbischen Regenerationsfaehigkeiten schon weiterhelfen, nehme ich an... *g* Ja, bei mir wohnen noch ein paar andere Leute, aber ich bin _sicher_, dass du mich gefunden haettest! *g* Na ja, ich nehme schon an, dass unsere beiden Lieblinge so etwas wie ein Brueder-Verhaeltnis haben, aber du musst dazu sehen, dass sich Legolas und Celylith ueber 2500 Jahre kannten, nech? Ich meine, dagegen sind 2 Jahre nicht SO viel...  
**NaughtyNat** - *g* You needn't have gone to Florida! The weather's been so great lately - but I guess you already know that... *evil grin* And I love dwarves too - they are truly adorable... Great you liked the last few chapters, hope you'll like this as well! Thanks for the review!  
**Bailey** - LOL, true, as long as there is an elf and a ranger to console you, everything's just fine... *g* I'm glad you apparently still liked the chapter, thanks a lot for reviewing!  
**Nikara** - Well, yes, I feel sorry for them, too. I mean, I kinda enjoy tormenting them, but then I pity them too... *g* Thanks for the review!  
**Gwyn** - I have no idea! People just read it, I don't know why either! If I keep getting over 50 reviews a chapter though, I will have think of a new way of responding to the reviewers - it already takes an awful lot of time... *g* Not that I'm complaining though... You are right of course! All this has been highly amusing, all the people nearly hyperventilating and all that... *chuckles* You saw right through my plan though - dammit... *g*  
**MG** - Thanks for the compliments! Oh, and about the spelling: You are wrong there, I'm afraid. I am writing in English, not American, and in English 'realise' is spelt with 's', not 'z'. Just like paralyse, centre, honour, defence and all that. So it's correct, only English. *shrugs* Sorry.  
**LOTRMatrixStarwarsfan - **In fact more than one persons _have_ stolen him from me - but I always got him back! Yay Nili! Nobody steals my characters! And I agree, if poor Estel and Legolas would go through even a third of what we do to them, they would have gone insane or commited suicide by now... *g* And yes, it's their charm - and their good looks, of course...  
**Marbienl** - Too long? Reviews can never be too long! About the quote from AEFAE: That was my quote, and one I never wholly liked, btw. I somehow always thought it sounded weird, but if you like it, great! And you're right, Adruran doesn't really get the whole friendship thing - that's his problem, huh? And Aragorn sounding grown up: Well, you realise that he IS grown up, right? I mean, with 22 you are more or less grown up! Uhm, and no, I haven't been listening to Isengard Unleashed or anything, in fact I have been listening to Sting a lot lately, and to be honest, I wrote that sentence in a few seconds just before I posted it. And I really can't see Frór acting fatherly towards an elf, I mean, he's a DWARF, for crying out loud! No way, if you ask me... Not even for Estel, I think. A bit perhaps, but dwarves aren't exactly known for showing their feelings in public, so that's a No again... And my laptops's still okay, never fear! *huggles it* I won't let anything happen to you, baby! And congrats on finding an internet café! Well done!  
**TigerLily713** - *evil grin* No, of course you don't have to be happy about it ... I still enjoy being evil though! *g* Thanks for the review!  
**Alisha B** - Getting tired of hearing that a chapter was great? Are you kidding me? No? Never!! *g* And you are indeed very smart! You saw right through my evil plans! Your reasoning is good, except for the I'm not that cruel bit - I would have loved it, but I am too afraid of the Celylith Lives Foundation. *g* _They_ are evil! And your threat not to review helped too! I mean, the mere thought of you not reviewing is ... Ah! No! It burnsssss usssss! And thanks, finally someone who agrees with me that even if Celylith survives all this, there is no way that he can just get up and help them! *shakes head* Jeez, he's an elf, not Superman...   
**Leggylover03** - I will not comment on this. You are just too sick, you and your Estel pain... *shakes head* You people...  
**Cestari** - *g* No, right now I don't think anyone likes the nasty humanses... Hold on to that thought though! *g* Celylith will be ... yes, what will he be? Read on and find out! Thanks for all your reviews!  
**Firniswin** - Well, to be perfectly honest, I CAN kill him if I want to. I mean, I am the author and have created him, so I can kill him as well! *evil grin* I am evil, don't tell me... *g*  
**Asha Dreamweaver** - Thank you! Great you liked the past chapters, I hope you'll like this one as well! Thank you for your review!  
**XsilicaX** - *g* Yes, he'll do all that - and more! I mean, he's SuperCely after all, an arrow in the back and enough cuts and bruises for three elves is nothing that could stop a SuperElf like him! I don't have much time to write either, I'm about to run outside and try to get rid of the last bits of my skin that are not sunburnt yet... *g* Thanks for reviewing anyway!  
**ThE iNsAnE oNe -** Uhm, you're really a bit exhausted, aren't you? If you ask me, I would get a few Uruk-hai bodyguards if I were you - I think Elladan and Elrohir are planning something... *g* LOL, Legolas is making voodoo dolls? That is really not a good sign, I think I would run if I were Aragorn... You have to study Algebra? Poor you, I always HATED everything that even remotely looked like math... And what's so bad about the dwarves? I mean, they're not going to kill him again, right? *gives FF.net evil looks* I really hope that you get your account back, and then you'd better update, or I will introduce you to my balrog! And he's ill-tempered right now! *g* You are threatening to hang me? Well, that's something new... Update soon, you hear me? Soon!!  
**Aron** - Technically speaking, it is very much possible for Celylith to die. I mean, he's my OC, so I can kill him anytime I want to. But I agree with you: Poor, poor Celylith... *g* And I think that you're right, there are quite a few people around here that would probably enjoy killing/maiming/mutilating a few of Adruran's men. Slowly, of course. You're sensing pain for our fav ranger and elf? *innocent look* Whatever gave you that idea? I really don't know... *g*  
**Salara** - Ob du's glaubst oder nicht, dass sagt meine Mutter auch immer! Das Problem ist nur, dass alles in Deutsch nicht halb so gut klingt... *seufz* So ist halt das Leben... *g* Aus irgendeinem Grund mochten viele Leute die Legolas-Szene, obwohl ich da nicht unbedingt zu zaehle. Keine Ahnung, irgwndwie fand ich sie seltsam... *Schultern zuck* Na ja, wie dem auch sei... LOL, das mit der Zwergen-Mami ist eine gute Idee, aber ich glaube nicht, dass ich Zwerginnen reinbringen werde, da ich mir immer noch nicht sicher bin, ob sie auch Baerte haben! *g* Der Hintermann taucht auch noch auf, spaetestens im letzten Kapitel zwecks foreboding fuer die naechste Geschichte... *fieses Grinsen* Danke fuer die guten Wuensche, momentan geniesse ich England schon sehr!  
  
***sits stunned* Thanks a lot for this _mountain_ of reviews! Now I'm positive that I never got so many - thank you! *huggles reviewers* Thanks a lot for all your support!**  
  
  
  
  
  



	21. Dark Horizons

**Disclaimer: **For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.  
  
  
**A/N:  
  
Uhm, well ... yes ... I'm sorry? Really??? *hides behind her pet balrog*   
  
I am really sorry guys, I didn't mean to let you wait, but there was nothing I could do. I somehow got a really nasty ear infection, which the doctor told me with that annoying Everything-will-get-better-my-dear-smile, and it hurt so bloody much because skulls can't expand to deal with the swelling - or something like that. *grimaces* Well, I spent the last six days on so much antibiotics and painkillers that I could hardly remember my name, and I still had to write that stupid paper. I am really NOT expecting to get anything good for that one, it's mostly drug-induced ramblings ... and lots about Hannibal and his (pink) elephants...   
  
Well, now I am better, thanks to my new friend Ibuprofen Extra Strong (I had some rather interesting conversations with my painkilling pills! *g*), and the Hannibal paper is finished, too! Yay Nili! I still can't hear anything on my right ear, but that's a bonus, kind of, so I can pretend I don't hear people calling me... *g*  
  
I'm glad to see that you are happy that our dear friend Celylith is not dead, and all your suggestions concerning what to do with certain members of Adruran's troupe are ... interesting, to say the least, and I must say that some are positively disgusting (Yes, I DO mean you, Marbienl and LOTRFaith! Skinning them alive, Jeez!)... Okay, so now that I don't have anything to do for college till end of September, I hope to have more time to write, so I just might return to posting a bit more often. Might being the main word here. *g*  
  
  
Well, here's the next part, sorry again for letting you wait. I feel really bad about it - well, at least a little bit. What do we see ... Estel finds out with what he's in that cave, Legolas is in a _tiny bit_ of trouble, Celylith-the-barely-living-pin-cushion wakes up and we have a cliffhanger. *giggles* Oh yes, it IS a CLIFFhanger.... *maniac laugh*  
  
Enjoy and review, please!  
  
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Chapter 21  
  
  
Aragorn flattened himself against the wall, hardly daring to breathe.   
  
No, there was definitely something in here, and now he even understood what Geran had meant when he had said that he would die soon anyway. Whatever it was that was in this cave, it sounded rather ill-tempered, and he was sure that it was coming closer, too.  
  
Curse that man, he thought angrily, looking nervously about him, only Geran would think of putting him into a cave with something already in it! That brought his thoughts automatically to the question what exactly was in the cave with him. Perhaps a cave troll? Or a warg, a pack of wolves, goblins, orcs…  
  
He grinned wryly. Why not a dragon or a balrog while he was at it? It couldn't be that bad, could it… Just then his eyes that had somewhat adjusted to the darkness of the cave spied something, a dark shadow that was slowly coming closer. It was dark, far taller than any man or elf he had ever seen and moved on two legs, which ruled out quite a lot, including the balrog and the dragon. Not that he had really believed that something like that had chosen exactly this cave for its hiding place, especially since balrogs hadn't been heard of since most had been destroyed by Fëanor and his sons at the end of the First Age during the battle of Angband and the last of the truly great dragons had died with Smaug, but considering his luck, he wouldn't have been surprised either.   
  
Pushing back the panic that was rising inside of him, he frantically wondered what he should do. 'Think,' he told himself firmly, 'Think, by Elbereth's stars, or you are dead!'   
  
One: He was stuck in a cave, with apparently no way out. Two: There was something else in here as well, and that something was big and sounded rather disgruntled. Three: He was still bound and had no idea how he was going to get the ropes off any time soon.  
  
All in all, it was a situation that most people would have described as seriously unamusing, and for once, Aragorn was inclined to agree. He really couldn't see a single bright side, not one, he mused while he inwardly contemplated whether he should stay put and pretend to be a particularly large rock or try and hide somewhere.  
  
'And where would that be?' The sarcastic voice was back. 'You can hardly see your hand in front of his eyes! Where would you go?'  
  
He took a deep breath. Running was not an option. He slowly edged sidewards, wincing when his cut back made contact with the rough stone wall. Rough … stone wall …  
  
Suddenly jumping into action, he frantically looked about him, and finally spied what he was looking for, or rather felt it: A slightly protruding rock just a few feet to his left. Giving the figure that was slowly coming closer a last quick look, he moved as quickly as possible and began to move his bound wrists over the sharp edges of the stone, trying to keep his movements slow and unobtrusive. His cave mate had apparently not seen him yet, and the last thing he wanted was to change that fact by attracting unnecessary attention to himself.  
  
After what felt like an eternity, the bonds fell off, and Aragorn felt how some measure of calmness once again returned to him. It could be worse, he told himself, trying to get some blood to return to his hands. He was stuck in a cave with some huge, ill-tempered thing, feeling as if his twin brothers had once again managed to talk him into one of their hunting trip that inevitably went wrong, but at least he had his hands free. Things could be much worse.  
  
Almost as soon as he had thought that, the tall shadow took another step forward, and Aragorn felt his heart freeze to the point where he was firmly convinced that it had turned into a lump of ice. He didn't know whether his eyes had finally fully adjusted to the near-darkness of the cave or whether the being had stepped into a tiny speck of light, but from one moment to the next, the young ranger was able to identify what it was with him in this cave.  
  
This could not be, he thought dazedly, looking at the strong, furry body in front of him. Aragorn fought the sudden urge to giggle hysterically. If Celylith heard this, he would never let him live this down. Never. It took him a few moments to realise what was wrong with this statement: Celylith was dead. He would never have the chance to tease him about being stuck in a cave with a ... bear.  
  
A bear, he could almost have laughed aloud. This was not possible, he ranted inwardly as he carefully edged along the cave wall, eyes fixed on the huge bear that stood a few dozen feet from him, sniffing the air. Well, he thought, trying to force his shock-numbed brain to start working again, at least this proved that the Valar did have a sense of humour. If a sloth had appeared round the corner, he wouldn't have been surprised either.  
  
The animal chose this moment to turn into his direction, its furry head swivelling round to look directly at the human that had appeared in its lair so suddenly and interrupted its sleep most rudely by collapsing the cave entrance. A Elbereth, Aragorn thought desperately, he needed a plan, and he needed it now.  
  
'What about hurling rocks at it?' the voice spoke up again. 'And there is always the possibility of insulting it until it goes away.'  
  
Before he could start doing either, the bear fixed its small, dark eyes directly on the figure of the ranger who was doing his best to become part of the stone wall, and gave a low growl that didn't even sound like a warning anymore, but rather like annoyance mixed with the promise of some rather unpleasant actions.  
  
With another growl the animal moved towards him, the speed and grace of its fluid movements belying its bulky body. Aragorn had barely enough time to throw himself to the side to avoid a clawed paw that swiped through the air. He hit the stony ground hard and automatically rolled over his shoulder, a movement that would normally have brought him back to his feet. Now however, he didn't get farther than onto his back, his chest and ribs screaming in pain as the cuts Hanar had placed all over his upper body with an exceptionally vicious-looking dagger a few hours earlier reopened.  
  
For a moment he simply lay there, quietly wondering just what he had done to deserve all this. The bear had meanwhile turned around for another attack and came closer, the smell of fresh blood only serving to excite it further. As quickly as his body would allow him Aragorn struggled to his feet, eyes fixed on the shadowy figure in front of him as he backed away slowly.  
  
A Elbereth, he thought as he moved backwards, doing his best not to stumble over rocks and trying to keep his movements slow and inoffensive, this was _not _good. He really didn't want to give the bear more reason to attack him. The bear growled, and Aragorn studied it a little bit more closely, noting that it was a brown bear, judging by the hump on its back and what little he could see of its head in the darkness.   
  
He needed a plan, now, but all he could think of was what his brothers had told him some years ago when they had spoken about bears in general and brown bears in particular…  
  
  
_"Ha!"  
  
The triumphant shout echoed through the quiet valley of Rivendell, and Elrohir traded a rather exasperated look with his brother. Estel's habit of shrieking every time his arrow hit the target was proving to become rather tiresome, especially since the boy's aim had greatly improved over the past few months.  
  
He turned to look at his human brother, who had walked up to the target and was eyeing his arrow with the specifically smug look only young boys could produce. Estel grabbed the arrow and swiftly pulled it out, running back to his brothers to show it to them.  
  
"See?" he demanded, brandishing the shaft, "I told you I could hit the inner ring!" Estel turned to Elladan who sat next to his twin on a fallen log a little bit away from the target in a remote corner of the archery range. "You owe me the recipe for that glue of yours, brother!"  
  
"So I do," Elladan smiled at the young human boy.  
  
Estel smiled back, turning to Elrohir now and looking at him with huge silver eyes.  
"Now that I've hit it can I come and hunt with you? Please?"  
  
The younger twin sighed softly. He recognised that particular Lost-puppy-dog-look, the one that had some effect even on Glorfindel. Not even Lord Glorfindel of Gondolin could refuse the young human's_ _requests when he looked at him like that, the golden haired elf had admitted to them recently, and that explained in fact why Elladan and he had caught him chasing a giggling Estel through the corridors of the Last Homely House not too long ago, waving a wooden sword and yelling something along the lines of "I shall slay thee, foul balrog of Morgoth!"  
  
Elrohir felt his heart melt and was about to tell his adorable human brother that he would of course __be __allowed to come when Elladan's stern voice interrupted him.  
"No, Estel. You're ten years old; you're not old enough yet."  
  
Elrohir shook his head quickly, telling himself that he really needed to develop an immunity to that look or Estel would have wrapped him around his little finger in matter of months, a rather disconcerting idea in his opinion.  
  
"I'm not too young!" Estel protested, the pleading expression turning into a full-fledged all-face-pout. "Why can't I come?"  
  
Elrond's oldest son sighed; it was becoming harder and harder to convince their little brother that he wasn't allowed to come with them on their almost weekly hunts.  
"Because there are many things out there that are dangerous."  
  
His foster brother waved his hand dismissively.  
"Deer? I don't think that they would shoot back."  
  
Elrohir smiled at that thought and swept the boy off his feet which caused him to start laughing loudly, and __after a few seconds__ the elf settled down again, placing Estel on his lap.  
"One does not only encounter deer, young one. There are other, more dangerous things as well."  
  
Estel stopped giggling and looked at his elven brother with big eyes.  
"Like what?"  
  
"Wolves, for example," Elladan answered for his brother. "Or even wargs or bears."  
  
"Bears?" his young brother repeated. "There are no bears here in Imladris, Elladan!"  
  
"No," the dark haired elf shook his head, "Not here directly. But there are many further to the East, in the proximity of the Misty Mountains and scattered all over Wilderland."  
  
"Oh," Estel said quietly, looking rather dejected. "I hadn't thought of that." He leaned back against Elrohir's chest, blinking up at his oldest brother. "How do you hunt a bear?"  
  
"Well," Elrohir answered for his brother. "First, you don't do it alone. Never come near a bear__ alone and unprepared,__Estel__, and a brown bear especially, for they are the biggest kind that live around here. You would most certainly not live long enough to regret it."  
  
Elladan nodded seriously, grey eyes fixed on his little brother. This was a good opportunity to impress upon the boy the dangers that could be found outside the safe borders of their home.  
"They are especially dangerous in the winter, if you are unlucky enough to come across one that is not hibernating in its cave. Females with cubs and pregnant ones are the most dangerous, and if you ever see a she-bear with younglings, you should not even think about trying to attack it. They are very dangerous when they're protecting their young."  
  
"Usually you use spears or arrows to bring them down," Elrohir added, with one hand unconsciously stroking over his little brother's dark hair. "Never allow yourself to get cornered by a bear, for they are a lot faster than they look. They also have an exceptional sense of smell, even though their eyesight and hearing isn't too good."  
  
Estel nodded, looking properly impressed now. A moment later a concerned expression flittered over his face, and he twisted in Elrohir's arms to look the elf in the face.  
"And what do I do when I find myself in such a situation? Alone with a bear, I mean?"  
  
"Pray," Elladan muttered so quietly that only his twin could hear him.   
  
Elrohir shot him a dark look and smiled at his human brother.  
"Just don't, Estel. And if you by some chance do, run away as fast as you can and call for us."  
  
The young boy looked at him seriously.  
"And you will come?"  
  
Elrohir tightened his hold on his little brother, a sudden wave of love sweeping over him.  
"Of course we will, my brother. We will always come if you need us."  
  
Elladan watched his younger brothers as they were sitting on a fallen log on the archery range of his home, the smile on his face broadening when he realised how much alike they looked right now, despite their different races. The sun was slowly sinking below the horizon, and Elrond's oldest son decided once again, studying their smiling faces in the dimming light, that he would do everything in his power to protect them and keep them from harm, no matter the cost.  
  
Deep in his heart though, he knew that he would not be able to do either forever, especially when one considered Elrohir's and Estel's talent to get themselves into trouble.  
_  
  
Aragorn slowly rounded a huge slap of stone, placing it between him and the growling animal. For a fleet, irrational moment he truly considered calling for his elven brothers before a calmer part of his mind told him that that would be extremely pointless and probably more than a little dangerous, for it probably wasn't too intelligent to test how the bear would react to loud shouting.  
  
"Wonderful," he thought once again, "Now I _am _alone in a cave with a bear, there is nowhere to run and Elladan and Elrohir are a few hundred leagues away from here. Perfect."  
  
He had little time for further musings since the animal rounded the slap with once huge lunge, clearly deciding that enough was enough and to rid itself of this intruder that had interrupted its hibernation period.  
  
Aragorn had just enough time to blink – which he did, looking remarkably like a sleepy, bruised and rather startled owl – before he was flying across the cavern and impacted with the stone wall behind him, about twelve feet away. He hit the rocks with a dull thud, his abused body screaming loudly in pain. All air was pressed out of his lungs, and he fell to the ground, momentarily stunned by the intense pain.  
  
The bear looked rather surprised itself, probably wondering what a funny little animal it was that had found its way into its home and that could be sent flying across the cave with one swipe of its paw. Aragorn's despite his injuries still quick reflexes had probably saved his life, since he had moved back a little only a fraction of a second before the bear's paw had hit him, and therefore he hadn't been torn into pieces as the bear had obviously intended.  
  
The animal's growls became deeper and more threatening (something which the young ranger had thought impossible) as it quickly made its way over to where the fallen man lay, and these sounds served to bring Aragorn out of his pain-induced stupor. With a tremendous effort he managed to push himself to his knees, shaking his head and dully fingering the tears that marred the one side of his face where the bear's clawed paw had ripped the skin open.  
  
The dark haired human was frantically looking about him, searching for something, for _anything _that could be used as a weapon, and just before the animal attacked again, his bloody fingers closed around a splintered piece of wood. Aragorn looked down quickly, identifying it after a heartbeat as part of one of the struts that had supported the cave entrance. The wooden pole was about as long as his forearm and roughly tipped, forming a very crude spear of sorts.  
  
'A spear?' a voice inside his head screamed. 'This is supposed to be a spear? Oh, great Eru, you are going to die…'  
  
Before it could say more, the large, furry and very, very heavy body of the now rather annoyed bear slammed into him, and he was thrown to the side, bruised ribs impacting hard with the stony ground. Gasping for breath and trying to ignore the stars that began to dance in front of his eyes, Aragorn held on to his rather pathetic weapon and tried to keep the animal from latching onto his throat at the same time.  
  
After a few seconds of struggling with the snarling beast, the young ranger could already feel his strength beginning to give out, and he almost didn't notice the pain of the scratches the animal's claws ripped into the muscles of his arms, chest and back. All he could think of was not letting the bear get to his throat and to wait for the right moment to try and use his spear, preferably before the animal had torn him into tiny little pieces.  
  
He weakly scooted a little bit away from the bear, already beginning to feel light-headed and dizzy with blood-loss and pain, when the animal's bulk that was threatening to squash him shifted slightly to the side, and suddenly his right hand that still held the piece of wood felt the unmistakable shapes of ribs under his fingers.  
  
Aragorn wasted no time, knowing full well that he would be dead in a matter of seconds if he didn't do something soon, and just as the bear was bringing down his snout to his throat to go for his jugular vein, he stabbed down with all the strength he had still left, piercing the thick hide and driving the wooden spear deeply into the body of the bear.  
  
The animal gave an unearthly howl, tensing and fighting even more strongly for a few moments, before it collapsed bonelessly onto the young human. Aragorn felt warm blood spread on his chest, not really knowing if it was his or the bear's, and to his mild alarm he found that he didn't care.  
  
The bear's dead body was pinning him to the ground so firmly that he doubted that he could have moved it even under normal circumstances, and in his current state he wasn't sure if he could have removed a hobbit child from his chest had he wanted to. The weight of the animal pressed down on him, restricting his airways and making it even harder to breathe, but he realised with surprise that the pain of his injuries was beginning to fade.  
  
He stared at the dark ceiling above him, and noticed that the large grey spots that had at first been confined to the corners of his vision were now beginning to spread and solidify. A part of him told him insistently that that was a very bad sign, that he needed to get up and mustn't go to sleep, that Legolas depended on him to stay awake and alive until he came back, but another, larger and very, very exhausted part was in too much pain to listen.  
  
The ceiling was beginning to fade as well, as was the sensation of sharp rocks that pressed into the cut and bruised skin of his back. Just before the grey spots turned into solid blackness that washed over him like a huge wave and he lost consciousness, he decided that sleep was probably a lot better than to lie here in a cave in pitch black darkness with a dead bear on his chest, waiting for death and going insane with fear and worry for his best friend.  
  
  
  
  
Twenty minutes after the men had collapsed the entrance of the cave, Legolas and the six humans reached the small wood a little down the slopes of the Lonely Mountain. In these twenty very, very long minutes Legolas had made about as many different plans how he could escape his captors, preferably by killing all of them as slowly as possible and then come back to free Aragorn, if he was still alive, that was.  
  
'Stop it,' he told himself firmly as soon as he had thought it. 'Of course that reckless _dúnadan_ is still alive; he is far too stubborn to be killed in a stupid cave-in! He isn't dead, he won't leave you too, he won't…'  
  
A sharp pain lanced through his very core, making him gasp for breath, which none of his guards noticed or thought unusual, since they had just jabbed a blunt club into his ribs to make him move faster. Bruised and cracked ribs – elven or not – tend to react none too pleasantly when being prodded by objects of any kind, and Legolas' let him feel their discontentment only too sharply.  
  
The elven prince gritted his teeth against the pain and walked on, trying to increase his pace despite the fact that his strength was slowly beginning to desert him after the half-hour he had been forced to move when his body had told him to lie as still as possible for as long as possible if he didn't want it to quit on him.  
  
Aragorn couldn't be dead, he mustn't be dead. He couldn't stand to lose yet another friend, not so soon after Celylith, he just couldn't. He was still lingering extremely close to the dark, bottomless chasm of despair, and should Estel be lost to him as well, he knew in his heart that it would be enough to push him over the edge completely. Legolas was sure that he would drown in pain and grief, and he was certain that he wouldn't even want to prevent it.  
  
His captors stopped at the beginning of the wood, and Legolas raised his head, banning all despair, pain and fear from his face. The fair haired elf slowly turned to look at Geran, who stood a few feet in front of him and looked at him with bright, almost fanatically gleaming eyes.  
  
Legolas simply looked at the man, nothing but disgust and loathing in his flinty silver-blue eyes. He was Legolas Thranduilion, Prince of the Wood-elves of Mirkwood, and he would be damned if he let this man see that, inwardly, he was being torn apart by grief, pain, fear, guilt, worry and about a thousand other emotions.  
  
To his substantial satisfaction, Geran was forced to avoid his eyes after a moment, which he masked quickly by motioning at his men, who in turn took out their crossbows and aimed them at their captive. The young lieutenant stepped closer to the elf and, drawing a knife from his belt so quickly that the human eye could barely follow it, he cut Legolas' bonds with one swift move of his dagger.  
  
The elven prince hid a wince when the restricting bonds fell off, and forced himself not to show the confusion and puzzlement that was washing over him now. He turned slightly, resisting the urge to rub his aching wrists, and was about to say something when his eyes came to rest on the knife the man still held. The elf's whole body seemed to freeze as he stood still as a statue carved out of white marble, eyes fixed unwaveringly on the weapon in Geran's hands.   
  
The young man's face contorted into a smug grimace when he realised what had triggered the fair being's reaction.  
"Ah, I see. You recognise this, Master Elf?"  
  
Legolas just stood as if rooted to the spot, pain and fury warring in his chest. Of course he knew the dagger, how could he not? He had been there when Celylith had received it from his sister years and years ago, as a present on Yentarë, or Winter Solstice as humans called it. He could still remember the look on uncurbed joy on his friend's face when he had embraced Calowiël and swung her around as he had used to do when they had been elflings, their blonde and silver hair mingling and their fair voices raised in laughter…  
  
The elven prince shortly closed his eyes, very aware of the crossbows that were trained on him and trying to get his emotions under control. After a second he opened them again, and the emptiness in them was more terrible than anything else that could have been seen there.  
  
"This knife belongs to my friend, human," he said in a very low voice, staring hard at the man.  
  
Geran once again averted his eyes and reached up to his quiver, pulling free a bow that Legolas knew only too well. He felt how the pain and anger in his heart even intensified. How dare this man even _touch _it…  
  
"And that is my bow," Legolas simply said, both because he was far too angry to think of anything more he could say and because he still wasn't sure if this boy was truly realising what he was doing. No-one touched his weapons without his permission, no-one, and certainly not this sick man that stood in front of him, a smug grin on his face.  
  
"Wrong, Master Elf," Geran told the elf who had become even whiter, a thing the man had thought impossible. "Now it is mine, as is the ranger's sword and your elven friend's dagger. I keep a trophy of everything or everyone I kill, which brings me back to our game of course." He took a step back, still refusing to meet Legolas' now positively burning gaze. "The rules are simple. If we get you, we will kill you. So I would advise you to run, I will grant you five minutes of a head start."  
  
Instead of running in fear, the elf merely gave the small wood at which Geran had gesticulated a cursory glace before his eyes returned to the human's face. Geran didn't want to look at his prisoner, but somehow he found himself compelled to do so, and he couldn't break the eye contact even when the fair haired elf began to speak.  
  
Legolas looked at the man in front of him, shortly allowing his emotions to show in his eyes.  
  
"I will come back for these," he told Geran in an icy, very certain tone of voice, nodding at Celylith's dagger and his own bow. "And when I do, I will take my friend's knife and kill you with it, and its hilt will be the very last thing you will ever see before your worthless soul leaves the circles of this world. This is something I promise you, human, and I never take frivolous vows or break my promises."  
  
Geran swallowed hard, finally tearing his eyes away from the fair haired elf's, and opened his mouth to say something when Hanar put a mildly restraining hand on his arm and shook his head.  
  
"No, sir," he said quietly, "You need to hurry up. Don't waste your time with talking, you've heard what the captain said, haven't you? He needs all of us to supervise the Lake-men and to help get the treasure out of the mountain, and if we're not back in an hour, he will be very unhappy indeed."  
  
Geran looked sharply at the other man but nodded quickly, looking once again at his prisoner who still stood as still as a statue with his eyes fixed on him, a combination that made him feel decidedly uncomfortable. He had to forcefully push down the feeling that told him that the elf was speaking the truth, that, somehow, he had seen the future and that exactly that would come to pass, and he jerked his head into his direction, giving him a grim look that the elven prince didn't even seem to notice.  
  
"I would run if I were you, elf," he said, a sneer spreading over his face. "And please, do make it a bit harder than your little friends, will you? I was particularly disappointed with the elf's performance, it was all far too easy…"  
  
Geran trailed off when he saw his captive's face who was looking far angrier now than any other being he had ever seen in his entire life, and that included several of his liege's more ... temperamental fits. Until now he had thought that his lord was the person capable of the fiercest temperament he had ever seen, but when he looked into the eyes of the elf in front of him which seemed to positively burn with fury, he was forced to admit that this one topped him easily and that he should be quiet unless he wanted to the fair haired elf to attack him right here and now.  
  
Legolas gave Geran a long look, studying him as if he were a very nasty insect he intended to squash under his boot heel as soon as possible. Then he turned around and began to make his way over to the small cluster of trees, ignoring his pride that protested loudly at this action. No, he did not like to run away, no wood-elf did, but he was not stupid enough not to see that sometimes running away was the only option one had left. He could never take on six men armed with crossbows and swords, not in his present condition, and who would help Aragorn and avenge Celylith's death when he was gone?  
  
As he made his way deeper into the wood and listened to the sounds of his pursuers, he forced himself to push down the burning hatred that bubbled inside of his chest like an especially ill-tempered dragon. How dare this man speak about his friend like this, how dare he! Celylith had lived longer than Geran and his last forty ancestors put together, he had never been meant to die like this! His silver haired friend had been meant to travel to Aman with him one day, together as they had always been, to join his mother, sister and the rest of his family, but this ignorant, arrogant human had killed him, had cut his immortal life short before he had had the chance to do that and so much more…  
  
Legolas shook his head, banishing these thoughts from his mind. Hatred and anger would only distract him now, he could already hear the men coming closer, surrounding him on three sides. The elven prince's tired brain needed a second to grasp the importance of this. Why only on three sides? What was on the fourth?  
  
The fair haired elf shortly contemplated climbing a tree to have a look around, but abandoned that idea quickly when he realised that it would take him too long in his current state and that the trees were not standing quite close enough together to jump the distance between them. With his injuries slowing him down, he would never get off a tree on time when he had once climbed it, and therefore would be trapped like a fly in a spider's web.  
  
Legolas pushed onwards, trying to ignore his back that had burst into flames in the past ten minutes, he was sure about that. It _had _to be on fire, there was no other logical explanation for the nauseating pain that swept over him with every step he took. He noticed that the sunlight grew dimmer, far dimmer than the natural gloom of the small wood justified. He shortly contemplated whether the sun was going down before he realised that it had just risen and that that was therefore not very likely, to say the least.  
  
While he was still trying to figure out why it was getting darker and harder to move and doing his best to ignore a small voice that told him insistently that it was the blood-loss and that he should sit down somewhere before he fell over, he pushed through the thick underground, intent on finding a way out of his current situation. He didn't like this game of cat and mouse at all; he needed to hide somewhere until the men had given up the search and then go back for Aragorn…  
  
In mid-thought he felt how his right foot he had just lifted met only empty space instead of the hard ground he had expected, and Legolas reeled back, needing a few seconds which he spent waving his arms madly in a most un-elf-like fashion to regain his balance. Finally he got a hold of a low-hanging tree branch and clutched it with both hands, noting the red marks around his wrists that the rough ropes had left there with detached interest.  
  
The elven prince forcefully wrenched his thoughts away from this topic and looked in front of him, fixing his rather unwilling eyes on the space where he had so unexpectedly lost his footing. His rather tired and rebellious brain finally proceeded the images his eyes sent it, and he realised that he was standing on the edge of a small cliff. One of the foothills of the mountain was falling off rapidly here, creating a cliff about 150 feet above the ground.  
  
Legolas simply blinked tiredly, allowing himself to sink against the tree for a moment. So this was why they were only coming after him on three sides, they were trapping him against this cliff where there would be no escape for him…  
  
The fair haired prince's stubbornness re-awoke inside of him. He would be damned if he waited here for them to come and get him. He dropped to his knees next to the incline, peering down. There were places where he could put his hands and feet, yes, a foothold here and a protruding root there … but what then? Legolas shook his head, his thoughts racing. If he climbed down, they would only follow him, and he could already see the end of this wood. Beyond this there was no cover and no hiding places, he would be on the open plains and easily seen even by the most incompetent humans…  
  
Before Legolas could decide whether or not to climb down, his now pain-dulled senses flared to life, and he struggled to his feet, straining to focus his hearing. He only had a split second to realise that there was something or someone right behind him, and without thinking twice he threw himself to the side, careful not to land directly on his injured back. The pain would make him lose consciousness, he was sure of that; not even the firstborns' strength and stamina were limitless, as unhappy as he was to admit that.  
  
The elf regained his footing just in time to move to the side when a sword cut through the air exactly where he had lain only seconds ago, and Legolas had enough time to identify his attacker. It was one of the guards that Geran and Hanar had brought with them. For the life of him, Legolas couldn't understand how the human had managed to sneak up on him, and he was beginning to suspect that the small voice that told him that he was in a really bad shape was right, at least partly.   
  
The man grinned at him, displaying the absence of several rather important teeth. He thought the elf to be cornered, and was obviously already imagining what his superiors and comrades would say when they heard that _he _had got the elf…  
  
Legolas, however, was very unwilling to let himself be killed just like this. He mustn't allow this man to alert the others, or he would be dead very, very soon. Mobilising all the strength he had still left, he moved forward with a speed the human was clearly not expecting from a badly wounded creature such as him, and before the man even knew what was happening, Legolas had grasped the spare knife that hung at his belt.  
  
The guard brought his sword up, startled, and just in time to block an attack of the fair haired elf that distinctly lacked real strength. This raised the man's hopes once more, he moved forward and slammed his fist into his adversary's ribcage, causing the elf to drop to his knees with a soft cry of pain, one of his slender arms wrapped protectively around his chest. The man grinned again and moved in for the kill, but just when he had got close enough, the elf's head shot up with a start, and he lunged forward, his eyes dark and expressionless. The human had no time to comprehend what was happening to him before he felt something brush his throat and everything went dark in an instant.  
  
Legolas fell back to his knees, watching the body of the man fall to the ground in a bloody heap and panting for breath. His eyes fixed shortly on the gaping wound that was where the man's throat had been only seconds ago, the throat he had cut cleanly from ear to ear. He didn't feel remorse at all, he decided as he tried to force his lungs to start working again and fighting the very tempting darkness that was closing in on him, this human had deserved what he had got. He was sure that he had been the one that had hit Aragorn hard in his back when they had left the camp, and the memory of the gleeful expression on his face when he had done it was enough to make the elf feel ill again.   
That, he decided wryly as he tried to get to his feet, might also be because liquid fire was where his ribs had been only moments ago.  
  
Finally, he managed to stand, and with alarm he noticed that the other men were much closer now. He looked around him, trying to push back the despair that was threatening to overtake him. If he felt like this after fighting one of the men, what were the chances of him making it alive through a fight with five more of them? Slim to none, he admitted to himself with a small smile.  
  
This expression reminded him of Aragorn and served to bring him out of his temporary paralysis. He pushed back the pain and exhaustion and surveyed his surroundings. Geran and the others would find this body, there was no way they could miss it, and he didn't have time to hide it … but then again, perhaps they should find it … and then …  
  
His mind working faster than his tired and hurting body could comply, Legolas quickly dragged the still body of the dead man closer to the edge, churning up the snow and disturbing the foliage so that everybody would see that there had been a fight here. He positioned him at the edge of the cliff and made sure he was still gripping his sword. The knife he himself held he threw onto a grassy patch to the left where animals, probably deer, had removed the snow to get to the grass, making it look as if it had been wrenched from him during the fight.  
  
The sounds of the humans that were closing in on him came ever closer, and the elven prince knew that there was no more time to spare. Giving the scene in front of him a last glance, he hoped that Geran and the others were neither too clever nor possessed the ability to read tracks very well. No ranger or scout, no matter how young and inexperienced, would be fooled by this, but he counted on the fact that Geran needed to get back to the camp and didn't have time to look at this too closely.  
  
He walked over to the cliff and carefully began to ease himself over the edge. His torn back protested so fiercely that Legolas thought he might pass out now and then, but after a moment the worst of the pain passed and he was able to think more or less clearly again. The men were coming closer, and he prayed fervently to Elbereth to lend him speed. He needed to get down this cliff before they got here or all would be in vain. His plan was rather simple: Climb down, drape himself over some stones at the bottom of the cliff and look as dead and lifeless as possible. He just hoped that the men would be fooled and think that the man he had just killed had pushed him over the cliff just when he had died; if they did not, he was rather sure that he wouldn't live for another hour.  
  
Legolas clenched his teeth as he was slowly making his way down the rough stone wall, far too slowly for his liking. He wasn't sure how much longer he could go on like this, besides, the men were coming ever closer. It was rather interesting, he thought detachedly, trying to find a foothold, it was the question of what would happen first: Whether the men would find him before he could climb down, or whether his strength would desert him and he would really fall off this rock face and plummet to his doom. He had to suppress a small, erratic giggle. He truly didn't care overly much for either possibility…  
  
Just when he was sure that he would faint any second now, he heard the men push through the undergrowth just a few yards away from the edge of the cliff, and he felt his heart fall straight into his stomach. He was still at least forty feet above the ground, and if he didn't grow wings in the next ten seconds, there was absolutely no way for him to make it down to the ground before they reached the edge of the cliff, saw him and put a crossbow bolt or an arrow into him.  
  
Legolas would almost have laughed aloud. That would be just perfect, he thought wryly, being killed by one of his own arrows, the palace guards would laugh about that for ages…  
  
He heard four humans come closer, closely followed by a fifth who treaded a little bit lighter – that had to be Geran, he reasoned, feeling suddenly very calm. He glanced quickly up the rock face he was clinging to, and then down onto the snow covered ground that lay beneath him.  
  
Legolas clenched his teeth as he came to a decision. He shortly closed his eyes, sent a quick prayer to the Valar promising good behaviour for the next few decades should he survive this, and jumped.  
  
  
  
  
It was happening again, all over again, and there was nothing he could do to prevent it, not now, not then, not ever. He was back in the forest, in Mirkwood, the woods of his home, under the dark, somewhat intimidating trees he loved so much.  
  
Somehow, he knew that this was not happening, that it had to be an apparition, a nightmare or something else of that sort, but he couldn't influence what was happening around him. He felt slightly separated from his body, as if he were floating above it, even though he could not see himself.  
  
This was just like it had been one that certain, horrible day, the same greyish light that filtered through the trees, the same foul creatures that swarmed all around him like flocks of black birds, the same elves that fought alongside him. To his right Legolas just killed a particularly ugly orc, while Glónduil and half a dozen other elven warriors were busy dealing with the wargs that were trailing the pack of orcs they had run into, a fact that had come as a surprise for all of the parties involved.  
  
He felt his body move to the side, knowing before he had even turned that he was avoiding a spear that was thrust at him from behind, and turned to bury his sword in the body of the orc that had nearly taken his life. Wrenching his blade free, he quickly moved forward, narrowly escaping another orc that obviously wanted to succeed where his companion had failed, namely at killing him.   
  
He recognised this, he thought desperately, it was the same all over again…   
  
Trying to steel himself against the pain that he knew would come in a few moments, he concentrated and attempted to move his body to the side, but he didn't seem to be able to do anything at all. His body spun and dodged when various orcs were pressing in on him, and he killed many of the foul beasts with his sword and knife, but when his blade got stuck between the ribs of a dying orc, he knew that he wouldn't be able to save himself, just as he had been unable then.  
  
Sharp, biting pain flared to life in his chest, and he looked down with wide eyes to see a wicked-looking dagger protrude from his ribcage. Once again, he fell to his knees as he had done all these centuries ago, and once again all he could do was stare wide-eyed at the goblin that stood over him, mouth twisted into a jeering smile.  
  
Out of the corners of his eyes he saw rapid movement, and he strained to say something, strained to warn the person that was rushing up to him, but he could not. He slowly turned his head which was actually quite unnecessary, since he already knew what he would see. His eyes slowly surveyed the rest of the little clearing, noting that the battle was theirs and the last of the orcs were already trying to flee, closely pursued by the majority of the warriors of his guard. A shadow fell over his face as the orc lifted its scimitar higher, ready to bring it down onto his defenceless body, and he saw Legolas' horrified face at the far side of the glade as he turned around and noticed his predicament, realising that he would be too late to save him.  
  
All his attention however was fixed on the figure he saw rushing up to him, fair hair that had come loose of its braids flying wildly around his head. He tried to open his mouth, to warn the elf that was coming to his aid, but once again he was powerless to change anything, and so he was forced to watch as his saviour let his long hunting dagger fly through the air with deadly accuracy, hitting the orc that was just about to kill him.  
  
The orc's body fell to the ground with a thud, and the fair haired elf stopped in front of him, giving him one of his small, reckless smiles before he bent down to help him. Inwardly, he was screaming at the other to move, to get away from him, but he couldn't utter a word, and so the elf that had saved his life realised the danger he was in far too late.  
  
So intent had the other elf been on helping his friend that he hadn't noticed the second orc that was lurking in the shadow of the tree, waiting for its time to strike. The elf was just beginning to turn when a scimitar came seemingly out of nowhere and connected with a sickening noise with his midsection, drawing a deep wound. The fair haired elf stared in shock at the weapon that protruded from his chest, and all he could do was stare at the one that had saved his life as he fell to the ground, eyes wide and unbelieving.  
  
He didn't even notice that Legolas shot the orc a second later, he didn't notice that the rest of the foul creatures were driven off, he even forgot about his wound. All he could see was the bleeding, lifeless body of Amaran, his sister's fiancée which he had sworn to protect with his life.  
  
He quickly crawled over to the body of his fair haired friend, not noticing that Legolas, Glónduil and the rest of the guards had stepped closer. He carefully turned the elf's body over, and his heart froze in his chest when he saw the damage the crude blade had inflicted. He knew that there was nothing that could have saved Amaran, he would even have died had his motherbeen there, who had then been the master healer, but that did nothing to lessen the heartache of the moment he was forced to relive.  
  
He bedded the other's head in his lap, ignoring his own injury that was beginning to make him feel light-headed. Amaran's eyes fluttered open, stunningly green against the paleness of his skin.  
  
"C-Cel-Celylith?" he croaked, his life draining out of him and bright eyes already dimming.  
  
"Yes," he answered, but it were not the words he wanted to say now but the words he had spoken then, all these years ago. Now he would have pleaded him for forgiveness, but nothing he would have said now found its way past his lips. "It is I, my friend, hold on. Wait until my sister finds out you have ruined the shirt she sewed for you."  
  
The fair haired elf grinned weakly.  
"She will be furious … she is so much like you … sometimes…"  
  
Celylith felt the answering grin spread on his face, knowing full well that it looked fake and contorted with pain and grief.  
"She will be, Amaran. Please, stay awake, we need to get you back to the palace…"  
  
He looked up into the stony, sad face of his prince, and he could read his future brother-in-law's fate there as clearly as if it had been carved in stone. A raspy breath drew his attention back to the fallen elf.  
  
"Please, my friend," Amaran pleaded, grasping his hand in a surprisingly strong grip, "Tell your sister … tell Calowiël…"  
  
Celylith shook his head, his mind now fully overwhelmed with the memories. He didn't care whether this was a memory, a nightmare or a hallucination, his friend was dying in front of his eyes and there was nothing he could do to prevent it.  
  
"No," he shook his head, grasping the dying elf's hand tightly. "No, you will tell her yourself, _mellonamin_. Save your strength, you will be alright."  
  
Amaran minutely shook his head, his voice barely about a whisper now.  
"You were always … a pathetic liar, Celylith…" He took another rasping breath, smiling at the slightly older elf, his voice a little steadier now. "Tell her that I am sorry, please … Tell her…"  
  
He smiled slightly, the light in his green eyes slowly dying along with his body.  
"Tell Calowiël that … I love her … with all my heart." Celylith felt himself nod, oblivious to the tears that streamed down his face. Amaran took a last breath and added in a whisper, "Now and forever."  
  
Celylith waited anxiously for his friend to say more, something else than the words he had always exchanged with his sister when they had parted, but Amaran's eyes stared at the dark canopies of the trees, dim and unseeing. He didn't notice that Legolas stepped closer and finally dragged him away from the still body of the dead elf, nor did he notice that he dressed his wound; all he could see was the pale face of his sister's fiancée that seemed to have burnt itself into the insides of his eyelids.  
  
A detached part of his mind noted that this was not real, not the present, but it hurt so much that he couldn't free his mind from its influence. And so he felt how he sat down in the shadow of a giant oak tree and began to weep helplessly for his friend and his sister's lost love, and he lost himself in the grief as he had done more than half a millennium ago.   
  
This was only the beginning of the dreams though, and they got progressively worse from then one. They weren't even real dreams, since he was well aware of the fact that they were not real and already knew what would be happening, but that made everything even worse. He tried with all his might to change the things he was forced to relive, with no success however. He couldn't take away the guilt he felt for Amaran's death, couldn't heal his sister's broken heart or convince himself that she didn't look at him with hatred and reproach in her once beautiful eyes. He couldn't protect Legolas when they got captured by orcs, he couldn't see that Glónduil was betraying their people and their allies, was betraying him and their prince…  
  
Soon Celylith was sure that he was going insane. He couldn't bear this any longer, he just couldn't. There were so many things he should have done or said but hadn't, things he should have seen but didn't before it was too late…  
  
He desperately tried to remember what had happened to him that had brought him here, into this situation and time and place, but the memories came back only slowly. Sometimes he thought he heard voices or felt hands on his body, but he wasn't sure about it, he wasn't sure about anything right now. Finally, he thought that the darkness that was enveloping him was lessening somewhat, and once again he heard gruff voices that spoke to each somewhere close by.  
  
Gruff voices, he thought confused, who could that be? As he was fighting his way back to consciousness, he slowly remembered some of what happened. The men that had barred their way … the slope … and then, burning pain in his back, the feeling of falling and then – nothing…  
  
Slowly he became aware of the fact that his back still hurt so badly that he couldn't understand how it was possible that he had missed it until now, and as he began to take in more of his surroundings, he found that he was lying on his left side, but when he tried to move there were hands that were restraining him, pressing him firmly back down.  
  
Panic shot through him. Had he been captured? Had the men that had shot him taken him prisoner? If so, where was his prince, where was Legolas? Or was this another nightmare?  
  
Now very determined to find out what was going on here, he redoubled his efforts to fully wake up, and slowly, the words that were being spoken to him were beginning to make sense.  
  
"Easy, lad, easy … calm down, you are safe here…"  
  
This voice sounded ... wrong, somehow, but his thoughts were too jumbled and confused to pinpoint why. He ceased his struggles though, both for this person's and his own sake. The pain that ripped through his body with every minute movement was so intense that he was sure that he would pass out very soon if he wasn't careful.  
  
Finally, after an eternity, he managed to open one eye, and he was sure that he didn't possess the energy to open the second one. When it had fixed on the face that looked at him though, the other one opened on its own account and so quickly that it would have astounded every physician.  
  
He slowly closed his eyes again and counted to five before opening them again. The picture that greeted him, however, was just the same: A bearded face with a bushy beard and beady eyes that blinked down on him.  
  
"This is a nightmare," he croaked in Elvish, staring at the dwarven face in front of him. "Elbereth, please let it be a nightmare…"  
  
He would have said more, but his parched throat cut off his voice right then. The dwarf simply turned to the right and told a person Celylith couldn't see,   
  
"See? I told you he was waking up."  
  
The elf's eyes drifted shut again, partly to combat the pain that was wreaking havoc in his body and partly to block out the sight in front of him. A dwarf! How had he got to a dwarf? More importantly, why was this dwarf caring for him? He shortly contemplated if he had finally gone insane, but his thoughts were so confused and he felt so very, very tired that he didn't have the energy to follow that train of thought any further.  
  
Someone lifted his head and placed the rim of a cup against his lips, and after a second's hesitation he drank greedily, deciding that this water was the best he had ever had in his more than 2500 years of existence. After a while, the cup was taken away and his head bedded back onto a pillow, but Celylith still refused to open his eyes. He wasn't quite sure if he had the strength to do it anyway, and a small, irrational part of his mind was still hoping that this was a dream and that the dwarven illusion would simply disappear when he refused to acknowledge it.  
  
This hope proved to be futile though, for after some time (he wasn't quite sure how much, since he was right now concentrating on the incredible pain in his back) the gruff voice could be heard again, calling his name.  
  
"Master Celylith! Wake! I know you are not asleep, so wake up!"  
  
The elf tried to ignore the voice, deciding that it was not befitting an elven warrior to talk to hallucinations. He would wake up any minute now and would see his friends or perhaps a human healer from Dale, he was sure of that…  
  
The voice spoke again, vague annoyance in it now.  
"Elf, awake! I am growing tired of this!"  
  
Celylith groaned inwardly, but found that he had done it aloud after a few seconds. He recognised this tone of voice; it was something he had heard a lot of times in his life. It was the tone that every healer seemed to possess, may he be elf, human or, apparently, dwarf. Legolas and he had dubbed it the I-am-currently-the-master-of-your-existence-and-if-you-don't-cooperate-with-me-I-will-make-your-life-even-more-miserable-than-it-already-is-tone of voice a few decades ago when they had once again spent some time under Hithrawyn's watchful eyes.  
  
He tried to pry his eyelids open once more, hoping with all his might to see an elven face look down on him, or even a human one. Everything was better than a dwarf; he might even have taken a troll right now.  
  
After an eternity or two, his eyes opened again slowly, and he almost would have groaned aloud once more. The dwarf was still there, and he could even see another one standing behind him. The second dwarf looked vaguely familiar, but try as he might, he could not remember where or if he had seen him before.  
  
The first dwarf gave him a taxing look, as if trying to determine whether or not he would lose consciousness again. Celylith tightened his fragile hold on reality; he would be damned if he fainted in front of a bunch of dwarves. A moment later his resolve was put to the test when his slowly awakening senses reported a myriad of injuries and hurts to his aching brain. Apart from his back, his whole upper body seemed to be on fire, and his head and face hurt horribly.  
  
The combined pain almost served to send him back into unconsciousness, but he somehow managed to stay awake. The first dwarf reached out and placed a hand on his forehead, barely touching the skin, but even at this small contact his head began to hurt intensely.  
  
"He has a fever," he told the other dwarf behind him. "I need to put him back to sleep so his body can heal. He isn't out of danger yet."  
  
Celylith knew that he should feel offended that they talked about him like this, as if he were a piece of furniture standing in a corner, but he was too tired, hot and in too much pain to really care. His mind had shut down to the level where he didn't try to make sense of the things that were going on around him anymore, he simply lay as still as possible and hoped that he would lose consciousness again.  
  
The other dwarf nodded at the healer.  
"Is he lucid? Can I talk to him?"  
  
The other shrugged as he picked up a cup and began to slowly administer a sleeping drug to the nearly unconscious elf that would send him into the realm of dreams for the next eight to ten hours.  
  
"I don't know, your Majesty," he admitted, giving his patient a long look. "I have never treated one of their kind before, but he said something earlier. It was in their tongue, though, so he might have been hallucinating."  
  
Dáin nodded curtly and waited until the healer had coaxed all of the potion into the elf's mouth. He eyed the fair being with a look of pity in his dark eyes, something which he was rather sure the other would not have appreciated.  
  
Prince Legolas' companion looked very different from when he had first seen him, but already a lot better than the last time he had laid eyes him. When Frór and his men had brought him to the mountain, he had been almost completely certain that the elf was dead, or would very soon be. Now the dried blood that had seemed to cling to every inch of his body had been washed off, but on second thought he wasn't so sure if that was really an improvement.  
  
The silver haired being's face was so pale that it looked almost translucent, and all over his cheeks and forehead there were large and small gashes and bruises. The healers had assured him that they would heal completely, given time and if he survived the wound to his back, but right now he found it hard to recognise the fair face of the elf in the ruined one in front of his eyes.  
  
The dwarven healer bustled off to crush some more herbs, and Dáin stepped closer to the elf.  
"Lord Celylith, do you remember me? Do you know who I am?"  
  
The king looked in vain for some sign of recognition, but the tall being's lips opened, and he whispered something he couldn't quite understand, except for the word "Nightmare", which he seemed to repeat several times. Dáin shook his head unwillingly. The elf's eyes were already beginning to drift shut again as sleep claimed him, and he knew he would have to hurry if he wanted to find out anything.  
  
"Master Elf, where are your companions? Where are Strider and Prince Legolas?"  
  
That seemed to catch Celylith's attention, since the blue eyes opened slowly, the white of the eyes bloodshot and red.  
"Legolas is not … here?" he whispered so softly that the dwarven king could hardly understand him.  
  
"No," Dáin shook his head. "A patrol found you yesterday night and brought you back here to the mountain. You were grievously wounded and alone."  
  
Celylith's eyes closed again, and he didn't have the strength to open them again. Whatever that dwarf had given him, it was working, and the inviting darkness came ever closer.  
  
"We were … ambushed," he managed, fighting against unconsciousness as long as possible now that worry had awoken in his heart. "Men … at least fifteen … tried to make for the river … I don't … know what happened … to .. the prince… Elbereth, I don't … know…"   
  
The smaller being nodded grimly. That was making sense, considering what he had heard from Frór, Frerin and the others. So Prince Legolas and the ranger had probably been captured by the men they had talked about, and were now Valar-know-where… He turned his attention back to the elf, but refrained from asking any more questions since everyone could see that he had lost consciousness again. His pale silver hair was spread on the pillow, somehow even accentuating the whiteness of his skin and the red cuts and colouring bruises.  
  
Dáin stepped away from the bed, the biggest one they had been able to find that was still slightly too small for the elf. He needed to convene his council, and they finally needed to come to a decision what to do about these men, and how to find them.  
  
The dwarf clenched his teeth as he slowly made his way to the council chambers, too deeply in thought to pay much attention to the greetings he received from the dwarves whose way he crossed. The ones that had ambushed the elves and the ranger had to be the same ones that had been disturbing his miners, or they were the ones that were responsible for the disappearance and most likely death of his nephews.  
  
'Either way, it doesn't really matter,' he decided as he climbed some steps that led up to the Hall of Thror, 'They will regret their actions, I will make sure of that!'  
  
The King of Erebor wrenched his thoughts away from his brother's sons and took a deep breath as he looked at the dark wooden doors that barred his way and that would lead him to the council chambers. They would find these humans, he swore silently, they would find them and show them what exactly happened when one attacked the dwarves.  
  
Dáin set his jaw and pushed the heavy doors open, silently asking himself just how he would explain all this to the Elvenking.  
  
  
  
  
  
**TBC...  
  
  
  
  
  
** _dúnadan - 'Man of the West', ranger  
mellonamin - my friend  
  
  
  
  
  
_***giggles* CLIFFhanger, you got that? Cliff, as in... *claps hand over mouth* Sorry. I always wanted to do something like that, ever since I heard the word clifhanger. Plus my alter ego's on the rampage again, and this time I am having a really hard time stopping her. I think with all this sunshine she somehow grew, like a big evil plant or something... *reads sentence again* Gosh, that's the drugs, sorry...** **Okay, so, I really don't know when the next chapter's coming, I hope it won't take as long as this time; I don't think I will. But reviews always help.** **So: Review? Please??**  
  
  
  


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**Additional A/N:  
  
Coreinha** - It was my pleasure to 'not make him dead'! Yeah, Legolas is having a pretty bad time right now, I admit that. And I think that somehow, miraculously, Celylith escaped the fate of a punctured lung, because I don't think that he would have survived that long with one, or that he would have survived the journey to the mountain or the dwarven treatment. So - miracle! FF authors can be pretty powerful... *g*  
**TrinityTheSheDevil** - Phew! I escaped the fate of being barbecued! Yay Nili! Well, I am sure Aragorn appreciates your grin at his predicament - then again, perhaps not... And I agree, Geran deserves to be shot - and worse... *evil grin* I'll see what I can do. *watches Trinity camp on her doorstep* I never understood what's so great about roasted marshmellows. *shakes head* Must be an American thing. And your second review: I'm sorry? It wasn't out of meanness (that's not a word, is it? *scratches head*), I promise you. Honestly.  
**Amelie** - You get a far-off look in your eyes when you think about someone's pulse? Girl, you have a problem... *g* My story's to mean to be torture? Uhm, okay, if you say so... Your theory is interesting, but it's a definite No, I'm afraid. I'm sure dwarves grumble a little, but I don't think they really growl that much... Oh, and nobody's upset about the other man because he was only a hired Lake-man. Lomar said that he had hired the two Lake-men (that one and the guard that escaped) for the job, namely to capture Aragorn. So nobody cares, 'cause it wasn't one of Adruran's men. And I don't know yet what to do with Geran, and we'll see more of his dagger, never fear...   
**Tapetum Lucidum** - *g* Yeah, for people who like Legolas that picture might have been a little bit distracting, I give you that... *g* And yes, Celylith is not very happy about owing his life to the dwarves, indeed... *snickers evilly* LOL, Ranger - Cajun style? That was interesting... Uhm, sorry, no dwarf? But I hope you won't be disappointed! Great you liked the whip, I'll tell Geran you liked it - I'm sure that he will be very pleased! *g* And of course! *hands her written invitation* You're invited to the elf hunt! If you get him you my keep him!  
**Gwyn** - Yes, you were right! You would do the same thing? That makes you evil, then... *g* And no, there's no trick, except for the balrog I send after people that don't review.. *g* That might have something to do with it - nah, probably not...  
**Mouse5** - *huggles her* Thanks! That means a lot to me! You never met anything as evil as me? That's so flattering! And if I do a knife fight, it won't be in the next chapter, I'm afraid, more likely in chapter 24 or 25, I think. Sorry, they refuse to shut up. Not my fault.  
**LOTRFaith** - Who said violence never solved anything? OF COURSE it does! *g* J/k... *watches her laugh maniacally* Uhm, okay, it's all a _very good_ idea, yes, calm down... And yes, I will most likely kill them - and rather sooner than later. Great you liked the chapter!  
**ManuKu** - Nein - Ich hatte den Mut wirklich nicht. Ich _haette_ ihn ja gerne umgebracht, aber ich hatte Angst vor der Celylith Lives Foundation... *g* Und WARUM nehmen alle an, dass das Zwerge im Berg sind? Ich hab' das nie gesagt, ausserdem waere das doch VIEL zu einfach, nech? Und ICH habe hier niemanden durch die Mangel gedreht - das waren Geran und mein Alter Ego, ehrlich! Und dass du nicht so auf Zwerge stehst, ist schon klar, v.a. wenn man die Psycho-Zwerge aus eurer ersten Story bedenkt... *g*  
**Firnsarnien - **Well, if I have appeased the terrible Celylith Lives Foundation, it has been worth it... *g* Well, and even IF you have a detailed map of Essex you would never find me! You don't even know the name of the house, so you have no chance! And your wargs have never smelt me, I am safe! Mhahahahaha! And _I_ am not doing anything to Legolas - it's all Geran's fault ... and my alter ego's... *g*  
**.Forever Spring.** - *tries to speak to her in a calm, soothing voice* I know what you mean ... of course I have been throught the same with various authors ... calm down, that's it, breathe... I am sorry for posting a little late this time, but as mentioned in the A/N, it wasn't my fault. Glad you like it though, and thanks a lot for the review! *huggles*  
**One15** - *knuddelt zurueck* Natuerlich ist er am Leben, was dachtest du denn, dass ich 'nen Todeswunsch habe? Und du magst Nabur? Ja, er ist wirklich niedlich, vielleicht ein wenig langsam, aber suess. Und ES TUT MIR LEID! Wirklich! Aber ich hatte echt keine Zeit, und habe seit Samstag nix anderes getan als diese dumme HA zu schreiben. Und Ich kaufe mir am 26.8. auch die DVD, da kommt sie naemlich hier raus. Ich werde zu Virgin Records rennen und blitzschnell zugreifen! Mhahahahaha! Und in PotC gehe ich naechste Woche, ich wollte eigentlich schon, seit ich hier bin, aber hab es irgendwie nicht geschafft. Halo und ich treffen uns und dann geht's ab! Beileid zu deinen Zahmspangen, nachdem ich mein viertes Set verloren hatte als ich 10 war, haben meine Eltern aufgegeben... *g*  
**Fliewatuet** - Oh yes, the Celylith Lives Foundation did work. I never really wanted to kill him anyway, but you guys, uhm ... persuaded me definitely not to. *g* And you are right, poor Celylith is really not too happy to find himself in Erebor. *shakes head* How did you guess? LOL, my cruelty is unprecedented? That is a very nice thing to say, but a little bit exaggerated, I think. It wasn't that bad. *modest smile*  
**Alilacia -** *nods* It was 100.6 °F in Kent, which isn't too far from Essex, as you know. *shrugs* Might have been only 99.9 °F though. *g* I love London, I've been there lots of times, but it's really not possible to see it in one day. So I decided to show my sister all the tourist stuff, you know, Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, Tower Bridge, British Museum, that kind of thing. Was nice though. *g* ****You're right btw, the last person who got that look is dead now, so that mean Hanar will die too - surprise, surprise... And yes, if I ever visit Plymouth, I'll definitely let you know. I love meeting people I know from here! Most of them are insane though... *g*   
**Cestari** - Well, I guess Hanar, Geran and Adruran are on no-one's favourite list right now... I wonder why? I think they're adorable! *huggles them* And no - *gives her dark, threatening glare* - you won't feed them to your pet, I still need them, you hear me? No harming my characters!   
**Veryawen** - *hangs head* Am I that predictable? But it's true, I never really intended to kill Celylith. And sorry, but Elrond will definitely not come and rescue anybody, since he's in Rivendell and the passes are closed. I'm not sure about Thranduil yet, but I think he won't come either. shrugs* We'll see. Thanks a lot for reviewing!  
**Sirithiliel** - Well, usually I am not that nice to my characters either, but you, the Cellyith Lives Foundation and all that ... I was scared... *g* I am not using a beta at all, I just read it once or twice and check about every other word in the dictionary. I'm too lazy to send everything to another person and wait till it comes back and all that...  
**Strider's Girl** - *sniffs* So I'm not evil anymore? *wails* But I LOVE to be evil! Wahahahahahah! Well, thanks for your kind words anyway, I guess... *sniffs* Not evil ... not fair...  
**Firniswin** - Uhm, well, it _was_ soon? Okay then, not really, but hey.... *shrugs* Thanks for the review!  
**Imbefaniel** - *g* I knew you guys would notice the face bit... And the caves: I don't know? They somehow always seem to end up in the vicinity of on mountain or another... And don't worry about Legolas' back, he's an elf, he heals quickly, and Aragorn will make sure there won't be any scarring - I think. *g* Hope everything's fine with your ex!  
**A Person** - I know, it's kinda clichee, isn't it? I really thought about killing him for good, but I couldn't do that to you guys, not after Nólad in the last story - and there was always the Celylith Lives Foundation, they are really scary... You don't like cliffies? *reads next chapters* Uhm, okay, then don't read on, it wouldn't be good for your health, I think. And yes, you are making very serious threats. *nods* Very.  
**CrazyLOTRfan** - Well, I guess Celylith would love to come back and kill all of the men, but to be honest I don't think that Celylith will be of much use in that way in the immediate future. I mean, it's a bad injury and a bad fall, and he may be an elf, but he's not Superman! Or Superelf, in this case... *g* And I thought you liked cliffies? Huh?  
**Bec - **Uhm, yes, the update soon bit - sorry? I'm sorry, as I said in the A/N, nothing I could do... And Thranduil doesn't even know that Legolas is in trouble, for all he knows he is merely visiting Dale and coming back soon... But perhaps he is getting impatient, who knows? Thanks for the review!  
**Sirith** - Oh, thank you! *blushes* Great you like my weird little story! I hope the waiting wasn't too bad, sorry for letting you wait! Thanks a lot for reviewing!  
**Zam** - Oh, you do? Have a German exchange student, I mean? *evil grin spreading over face* Okay, I want you to do this: Go to him/her and tell her/him the following words (you may write them down if you want to): "Hallo, bitte tu mir und der Welt einen grossen Gefallen und schlag sie, und ihre Schwester auch. So hart wie du kannst. Vertrau mir, sie verdienen es. Falls du es getan hast: Gratulation! Ich und viele andere Menschen beneiden dich! Gut gemacht!" *giggles* And if you're lucky she or he may even translate for you... *evil grin* You are turning orcs into orc toasties? *wide eyes* Okay, if you want to, they're your horde, after all... YOU are distributing these whips? I knew it! That explains a lot! *sighs tiredly* No, Geran and Hanar are NOT gay! You hear me? NOT! They're just sadists! *reads definition of sadism* "The gaining of pleasure or sexual gratification from the infliction of pain and mental suffering on another person" Uh, crap, just ignore the sexual gratification bit, okay? *burows head in hands* Oh dear...  
**TigerLily713** - A puppy dog? Well, how do I say this ... no? Not really, anyway... And you are right, fighting anything BUT a puppy dog may prove difficult for Aragorn...  
**LadySandrilene2** - No, things are never bad enought! Mhahahahahaha! *calms down slightly* Sorry, that happens all the time here... And don't worry, there will be H/C, just a little later, but there definitely will be some. *nods* Yes. And no, I don't like Rashwe overly much - he's only a horse, for cryin' out loud! But don't tell him that or I might still get killed here... *g*   
**Critternut** - Where did I come up with the whip thingy ... I dunno, really. Probably another boring lecture - they tend to give me nasty ideas... *g* And no, I don't think that Geran is very popular right now - I wonder why? I have no idea, really... And I really don't think that Celylith himself will come to Aragorn's and Legolas' rescue - I mean, hey! He barely survived in the first place! I don't think he will be able to hold his sword for one or two weeks to come! You have nine cousins? Wow, I have ... *counts* five. That's not really much... Hope you have lots of fun with yours though!  
**Stacee Phelps** - LOL, 'the biggest cliffy in the history of cliffies'? It's not _that_ bad, calm down ... the next chapter's here! A bit too late, I know, but it's here! Yay Nili! *g*  
**Alex Mistress Squirrel** - Uhm, what about yoiur favourite ranger? I don't know - will he live or get eaten by whatever's in the cave? We might never know! LOL, j/k, just read on and you'll see ... kinda, anyway... *evil grin*   
**Leggylover03** - *wryly* You would. Love Aragorn's situation, I mean. *wide, surprised eyes* You love ranger pain? Really? Who'd have thought? I never thought you would, really... *g*  
**Aratfeniel** - Oh, you're taking ballet classes? I did too, from when I was 6 to when I was 11 years, I think. Then my feet decided that they had enough and quit on me. *shrugs* Probably for the best, too. *hangs head* So you didn't really like the other torture? *sniff* Okay then... *shuffles off* And Celylith's reaction is not exactly what you would describe as 'overjoyed'... *snickers*  
**Maranwe1** - LOL, that would be very possible, I think - Celylith wakes up and promptly has a heart attack when he sees who he's with... *g* Yup, Geran's all that and more, you're right, but I still kinda like him. I don't know why either, I liked Donyc in my last story too. I have a weak spot for EDs, I guess... *grins sheepishly* This story ... well, I don't really know yet how long it's going to be, but I think about 25 chapters. Plus/minus one or two, I think, probably plus, knowing me... *g*   
**Carrie** - You know, for a second I thought you were another Carrie I know, and was beginning to wonder why she hadn't signed in, but then I noticed that you were not her but you - if you see what I mean. But it's always great to see a new reviewer, so let me huggle you! *huggles her* Okay, done. The salt thing does sound quite bad, btw - and I think I know what you mean, my mother's obsessed with Iodine - which is just as bad as salt in my opinion... It's great you like my insane little story though, and thank you very much for your review! Reviews help me so very much! *huggles again* Thanks!  
**Brethil, Estelle** - Well, that is a weird screen name if I ever saw one... *g* I like it though, it's unusual and that's always good. And I don't know yet about Thranduil, technically he knows that Legolas is going to visit Dale and will be gone for a while, so there's no real need to worry for him. Perhaps he's going to send some warriors to investigate though, I don't know yet. Thanks for the review!  
**Sr **- You can chase her for me, too. Halo takes forever to update anything! It's just horrible! *looks at her own story which is several days too late* Uhm, shutting up now... *sheepish grin*  
**Elenora1** - I nearly sent you into cardiac arrest? *puts hands together, Mr. Burns-style* Excellent... So you like elf-torture? To be honest, Legolas is no favourite of mine (on my fav elves list he comes fifth), I just torture him too to be fair. I can't only torture Aragorn, it would be mean. *g* *stops gleefully rubbing her hands together in utter delight at all your discomfort* Uhm, no, I don't do that! Really, I feel very bad aboutn what I do to you and my poor characters ... not. *g* Well, I do hope that you didn't go splat on the floor, this time I really am sorry for letting you wait so long. *points at her ear* It's its fault, not mine!  
**Bailey** - *g* Yes, he lives, I really don't understand how anybody could think differently. *shakes head* You're far too trusting... *gulp* Well, I didn't update on Tuesday or Wednesday, so what are you planning? Huh? Always remember: I can't write more when I'm dead, okay? Okay?  
**Marbienl** - *pats her back* I don't think anyone can truly win with FF.net - they're simply too evil and weird... Well, to be honest I don't think that moving your head in any direction is a good idea when somebody is holding a knife to your throat! I wouldn't move at all... *g* I agree, it's a good thing Legolas heals faster than men . he will _definitely_ need that, yes... *evil grin* And I will what kind of death I can come up with for Geran, but NO, it wil NOT be being skinned alive. *shakes head* You people... *catches her* DON'T slap my characters, you hear me? Especially not Frór, he's already unhappy about being in this whole story in the first place! LOL, Celebrían is waiting in that cave? That would be horrible indeed - mothers-in-law are creatures from hell... *g* *looks at Marbienl's dwarven army* I don't think they want to dig, Mar... They look kinda lifeless, too...*g* Well, my dwarves won't act like Gimli in TTT, sorry! I'm writing books here - more or less, that is! Thanks a lot for your great review!**  
Aron** - Yes, Geran IS nasty, and so are his 'toys', I'll admit that. Uhm, okay, that did sound wrong, just ignore it, will you? *g* Memory wipe for Geran? That would be interesting, yes ... but I guess he would still be a nasty person. *shrugs* That's what he is, really. LOL, you know, when I read that part about Geran being so impressed that he worships Legolas as his God, I automatically thought of Star Wars ROTJ, when C-3PO is being worshipped by the Ewoks. *glares at Aron* See what you've done? Now I think of Legolas as C-3PO, great... *g* And yes, I think 'Poor Everyone' would sum it uip quite nicely...  
**Nilbrethiliel** - *g* Wusst' ich's doch, dass dir die kleine Szene mit dem Spruch gefallen wuerde! Ich habe es eigentlich nur 'reingebracht weil wir da vor 'ner Weile drueber geredet hatten... Und na ja, ich glaube in Aragorn's Fall waere no company garantiert besser als this company... *fieses Grinsen* 'Nur ein toter Autor ist ein guter Autor'? Hallo? Auf was bist du denn, du bist doch auch ein Autor, du Depp! *schuettelt Kopf* Wirklich... Schoen, dass du die Zwerge magst, ich mag sie auch, sie sind so schoen grummelig! Sehr nett... Danke fuer deine review und die HA ist fertig! Yay Nili!  
**TrustingFriendship** - *g* Now I have this weird picture in my head of Galadriel as a psychiatrist... I'm sure Elrond would be thrilled to have someone who can take care of his youngest sanity - or insanity... Well, the question of 'what is in there with Aragorn...friend or foe' answers itself, don't you think? This is _my_ story, so have a guess... *evil grin*   
**NaughtyNat** - That's it! A cute, little fluffy bunny that points Aragorn into the direction out of the cave! And it gives him some carrots too! That would be very nice indeed, but this being not a perfect world.... *g* Thanks for reviewing! I missed you when you were away!  
**Amadaun** - Hi! *huggles* It's always great to 'meet' a new reviewer! And I am very glad I brought forth your happy dance, I was just too afraid of the Celylith Lives Foundation to really kill him. And don't worry about your family, they all get used to it - after a year or two, that is. I know exactly what you mean, my family think I'm crazy ... hm, they might be right there... *g* Oh, Gosh, you want recs? Well, Siri's stories are great, Littlefish, Thundera Tiger. Those are the great three in my opinion, they write several times better than me or anyone else. Thanks for your review!  
**Andboriel Swann** - Well, if you don't like cliffies, you just might be reading the wrong story here... *g* I like them, kinda, that is. I LOVE them when I write them, when I have to read them though, it's an entirely different thing... And no, the men don't know whom they have captured. For them they're only a random elf from Mirkwood and a ranger. Thanks a lot for reviewing, they help me immensely!  
**Alisha B** - *embarassed* Well, this time you wouldn't have had to hurry. I'm surprised - and more than a little bit thankful - that you haven't started nagging me yet... As mentioned in the A/N, there's no thunderstorm here and I am still late with this! Wahhh! I'm so sorry, can you forgive me? Please? *puppy-dog-look* Don't worry though, Celylith is about to wake up, just read on. *g* Yes, bad guys are terribly stupid, just like in Austin Powers. "Why don't you kill them? They might get away!" 'No, I will just put them into an easily escapable situation and assume that everything went according to plan...' LOL, it's always like that... I'm very glad to hear that you didn't get blown away or something! I would hate to lose one of my favourite reviewers! *huggles Alisha* Thanks for your TWO reviews!  
**Vampy2k** - Trust me, I WILL add at least Glorfindel to the next story, because I have promised Cathy (XsilicaX), who is a little bit obsessed with the dear golden haired elf. I wouldn't want to see what happens if I break that promise... *shudders* Thanks for your review!  
**Eva27** - I always wanted to go to Canada - perhaps I will some day. You never know. A friend of mine was an exchange student there for a year and still tells everybody how wonderful and beautiful it is... *g* Great to hear you still like the story, but: I'm confused. You said you would hook me and Cyd up, and then you signed with 'Cyd'? Huh? How does that work? And I'll see what I can do about the curses, the thing is that Sindarin is not exactly the best language for cursing - Quenya is worse, though. But I'll see.  
**Halo** - Great! I thought you were cross with me or something... I'll send you an email, we have to meet either Sunday or next week! WE HAVE TO!!!! Sorry for your screen though, I know how horrible it can be... *huggles Halo*   
**Asha Dreamweaver** - Uhm, thank you? Great you like it, and thanks a lot for the review! It isn't really soon, but I hope I didn't let you wait TOO long... *g*  
**ThE iNsAnE oNe - **Sorry Miki, I just got your review a second ago but don't have time to read it and reply. I'm sure that it's great as usual though, thanks! *huggles her* Will it it tomorrow!   
  
**Once again, SORRY for not updating any sooner. Blame my ear, not me. Any weird comments are the fault of my friend Ibuprofen. Thanks a lot for all your wonderful reviews!! *dances off to chase pink elephants***  
  
  
  
  



	22. Divided We Fall

**Disclaimer: **For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.  
  
  
**A/N:  
  
*grins broadly* Well, if one reads your reviews one could think that Legolas is suicidal or has a death wish! I mean, come on people, he didn't have many options left, did he? So no reason to call the men in the white coats, even though he _does_ travel with Aragorn and should have learned by now how that HAS to turn out... *shakes head* Stubborn elf indeed.  
  
I am sorry though if I spoilt the whole cliff thing for you by pointing out that it was a CLIFFhanger (even though, as some of you have pointed out correctly, it wasn't really a cliffHANGER but more a cliffJUMPER *g*), but I just couldn't help myself. I wanted to do that ever since I found out what cliffhanger meant, so I hope you'll forgive me.**  
  
**Oh, and I have to state that the bear was not entirely my fault, it was more or less Halo Son's evil influence. While I was still writing "An Eye For An Eye" I was visiting her, and there I saw that really stupid cartoon with a bear. We were - of course - just talking about Aragorn angst and pain and other nice things like that, and so the images of the (rather fluffy though! *g*) bear in combination with her evil aura gave me the idea to put one or two of our favourites into a cave with a bear. *shrugs* So, you see, I am once again innocent.  
  
Another Oh, I have finally seen "Pirates of the Caribbean". It was a nice movie, and Johnny Depp was wonderful! *sighs* He's such a fantastic actor, and his accent was simply great! All in all, highly enjoyable, even if it was rather predictable at times.  
  
  
Okay, the next chapter's here, and it's the last one I'm posting in England since I'm going back on Monday. *sobs* I don't want to! I want to stay here and drive on the wrong side of the road! *clings to a tree* Ah well, nothing I can do about that.   
Very well, what do we have ... Geran resumes him hunt ... we find out if Legolas has gone splash on the rocks ... and Celylith has a little talk with King Dáin and promptly manages to antagonise his hosts. *evil grin* Who'd have thought?  
  
Enjoy and review, please! **  
  
  


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Chapter 22  
  
  
Geran moved silently through the undergrowth, inwardly cursing the men he had taken with him. They were noisier than a horde of orcs on their way back to their caves at sunrise, and he was sure that all this racket had already alerted everything that was out here in this wood.  
  
Including the elf, he thought grimly, his fingers tightening around the bow he held. He once again looked at the beautiful weapon and wondered shortly where the elf had got it from. He had seen many weapons, and had added quite a lot to his trophy collection of course, but never before had he seen such a perfect bow. It was a strong, beautiful, lethal piece of work, and he was very much looking forward to using it on future hunts. It didn't really fit in his hand, but there was nothing to be done about that.  
  
The young man moved nearly soundlessly around a fallen log, listening intently for any sign that would tell him where his quarry had disappeared to. He could feel the adrenaline and the lust to hunt course through his entire body, sharpening his senses and making every single pore of his being feel alive.  
  
He was so incredibly lucky, he once again decided; to be able to hunt an elf was something that did not happen to you every day. Now he knew that he had been waiting for an opportunity such as this one for his whole life, it just couldn't compare to anything else. It was almost a shame that his prey was already wounded, he mused, but the last night had been far too much fun for real regrets.  
  
But apparently, this hadn't really impaired the elf that much for he was still evading them, something he had not really thought possible. He had counted on him evading them for a few minutes, but he had been gone for about a quarter of an hour. Slight unease began to steal over him. One of his men had been gone for five minutes without any sign now, and he was beginning to regret his choice to split his men up. They had been closing in on their quarry ever since they had followed him into the wood, and it couldn't be long now before they caught up with him, elf or not.  
  
Geran gave a small wink to his men, motioning them to stop. He stepped closer to a small tree, noting how Hanar was beginning to twitch with nervousness and impatience. He had not been very happy about Geran's idea to put the ranger into the abandoned mining shaft that, right now, hosted a rather big, rather ill-tempered brown bear, since he would have preferred to kill him himself.   
  
His lieutenant, however, had been more in the mood for a game, and had thought the entire idea to be highly amusing. Hanar had accepted his decision, of course, since there had been nothing else he could do, and had apparently transferred some of his hate from the young human to the elf. Which was just fine with him, Geran decided as he turned over a dark branch slightly to get a better look at it, as long as he didn't kill the elf he could do to him what he wanted. It was him that would be killing him, no-one else.  
  
Geran ran his hand lightly over the wood and studied the dark red stain that was colouring his fingers when he withdrew them. This had just become a bit easier, he grinned broadly. The elf was beginning to leave a visible trail, and judging by this he was beginning to tire as well.  
  
Hanar was beginning to open his mouth to say something, but Geran silenced him with a move of his hand. They were very close now, he just knew it, and the very last thing he needed was that Hanar destroyed everything. The cliff was just a few hundred yards in front of them, and the elf just had to be there. They had blocked all the other exists the fair being could have used, and he would be trapped against the cliff.  
  
There was simply no way out for him, and Geran was finding it harder and harder to keep his excitement under control. He was so close to his goal now, so close…  
  
He let go of the branch and began to push his way through the undergrowth, his four men behind him. He didn't care anymore if the elf heard him or not, the only thing that mattered now was to get to the cliff, and to get there now.  
  
When he _did _get there, however, the sight that greeted him couldn't have been farther from the one he had expected. When he entered the little clearing right at the edge, the elf's bow drawn and pointing unwaveringly at the scene in front of him, there was no living thing in sight.  
  
Although, he thought rather dryly, there was something else here, namely the still, bloody and very, very dead body of the one man that had been missing.  
  
But no elf.  
  
He had to suppress irrational laughter that was beginning to rise in his chest. No elf. Where by all the Gods could he be? He couldn't have evaded them, especially not in the condition he had been in…  
  
"Well," Hanar commented wryly. "He's not here."  
  
Geran whirled around, weapon still drawn.  
"What was that, Hanar?"  
  
The other man realised that this had apparently not been the smartest thing to say, especially considering the disappointment his lieutenant had to feel right now.  
"Nothing, sir."  
  
"I hope so," Geran snapped and made his way over to the still body of the man. "Because you of all people should know better than to make me angry, Hanar."  
  
He knelt down next to the other man's body, needing only a second to identify the cause of death, with was rather obvious anyway. The human's throat had been cut cleanly from side to side, which made Geran automatically look for the weapon that had been used. He had never been one to believe stories easily, and had always thought that the things that were told about the fair folk were tales only believed by children and old ones, horror stories told by the fire, and unless the elf had used his fingernails, he would have needed a knife to do this do his man.  
  
Something gleaming caught his eye to the right, and he stepped closer, bent down and retrieved a knife that was half buried in the snowy ground, coated in dark, rust-coloured blood.  
  
Geran clenched his teeth. Somehow the elf had managed to take this knife from the man and had killed him with it, he thought in impotent fury. He didn't know how he had managed to do that, but the fact remained that he _had _done it. He forced himself to take a deep, slow breath. There had to be a clue as to where his prey had gone, he reasoned as he studied the churned up snow intently. He began to curse the elves in general and this one in particular for not leaving any footprints on freshly fallen snow, something that he had forgotten to take into account.  
  
He crouched down next to the body of the man and motioned Hanar to step closer.   
"What do you make of this, Hanar?"  
  
The other man stepped closer and studied the chaotic imprints on the white surface that shone brightly in the morning sun.  
"They fought here … and then…"  
  
He looked up at his superior and swallowed once, deciding that Geran wouldn't like this at all.  
  
"Exactly," his lieutenant nodded grimly, and together they rushed over to the edge of the cliff, falling to their knees just in front of it and peering down intently.  
  
Hanar swallowed again when he studied the sight that greeted him and looked straight ahead, refusing to meet his superior's gaze. He shortly contemplated if Geran was going to kill all of them in one of his fits of fury; it would be a thing not unheard of. That was the problem with working for Geran, he mused depressed, he granted you quite a lot of privileges and fun, but there was always the possibility of angering him or be present when someone else angered him.  
  
Then, he thought wryly, it was best to be as far away from him as possible.  
  
He once again looked down the cliff, his eyes travelling over churned up snow and rather sharp-looking boulders to finally come to rest on what looked like a broken rag-doll from up here. When he looked closer, he could see long, blonde hair that gleamed slightly in the sun, pale, bloodstained skin and the tattered remains of a dark green cloak.  
  
The elf. Wonderful, that would make Geran so very, very happy…  
  
Geran slowly stood to his feet, eyes fixed unwaveringly on the still figure of the elf that lay at the bottom of the cliff, his left arm bent in an angle that was impossible even for an elven body. He blinked slowly, but the picture remained just the same. The young man suppressed the urge to kill someone or something, _anything_, to vent the enormous frustration that was building within his chest.  
  
Never in his whole life had he felt this betrayed, this disappointed, never before, not even when he had shot the other elf and he had died, something that he had not wanted, by the way. It had just happened and had only been an unlucky coincidence, but he hadn't felt too bad about it, safe in the knowledge that he still had the other elf to hunt.  
  
Now it had been taken from him, his one and probably only chance to ever hunt and kill an elf. The first one had died before he had even had the time to set up the game, and now this one had apparently fallen down a cliff after killing one of his men. Brilliant, that was the only word to describe it, and he didn't even have the ranger anymore to have a little fun…  
  
Geran took a step back and gave the dead body of the man behind him a fierce kick. How dare he, how dare this man take away his chance to kill the elf! He had deserved it, he had worked so hard to convince Adruran that he had everything under control, he had earned it! Why had this fool engaged the elf at all, his orders had been quite specific!  
  
He kicked the body of the dead man again and again, but instead of diminishing his anger only grew to improbable new dimensions. He would never get a chance like this again, never, he just knew it…  
  
"Sir…"  
  
Hanar's voice drew him back to the present, and Geran turned around to look into the anxious, terrified faces of his men that had gathered at the far side of the clearing. Realising that he must look like a madman, the young man forcefully calmed himself, his hands that held the bow still trembling with rage.  
  
"We will climb down there," he announced in a gruff voice. "Check whether he's still alive."  
  
Hanar carefully took a step closer to his lieutenant, eyeing him for signs that he might try to attack them or was losing it.  
"Sir, you know what the captain said," he began slowly. "He ordered us to come back as quickly as possible…"  
  
Geran whirled around and grasped the other man by his thick woollen cloak, pulling him forcefully closer.  
"He might still be alive!" he snarled. "Perhaps he's faking it! We _will _go down there!"  
  
Hanar looked at the other man as if he had just lost his mind.  
"You cannot defy him, Geran! Adruran is only waiting for proof that you consciously disobeyed him! He will kill you!"  
  
Geran looked at him with dark eyes, disappointment, fury and hate swirling in his gaze. Hanar was right, of course, they didn't have the time to linger here for a second longer than they had to, but that didn't calm him in the slightest. Finally, he turned back to the cliff, fingers twitching slightly in agitation.  
  
"Very well," he said, raising the bow and pulling the string taunt, "We will see if he's faking it."   
  
Taking aim quickly, he let the arrow fly, his fury temporarily forgotten as he watched the wonderfully crafted shaft cut through the air. The arrow's dark wood impacted with the elf's upper body, and Hanar was sure he could almost hear the dull thud that reverberated through the still air around them when it hit its target. The elf's body was thrown fully onto his back with the force of the impact, but he didn't move or utter a sound, something that any being would have done had he or she been alive and conscious.  
  
Hanar looked at the broken body of the elf, slowly beginning to smile smugly. So this was over, he thought to himself, the ranger and the elves were taken care of and his friend avenged. It had been fun, and it was almost a shame that it was already over.  
  
"You see, sir?" he asked Geran who watched the elf with the eyes of a hawk, looking for any sign that he was alive and merely pretending to be dead. "He's dead, there is no way he could have kept still for this. Let's get back to camp; he's gone."  
  
Geran unwillingly wrenched his eyes away from the still body of the elf, his mind finally beginning to accept the inevitable. The elf was dead and there was nothing he could do about it.  
"Alright," he finally agreed, ignoring the relief on he faces of his men. "We will return to camp."  
  
He turned and gave the body of the man a hard look.  
"Leave him," he ordered, looking at the rest of his men as if to challenge them to question his command. "He deserves what he got when he took on the elf."  
  
The other men exchanged nervous and slightly disapproving glances, but knew better than to protest. It was never wise to antagonise Geran, and right now it would probably even be stupider than on most days.  
  
Their lieutenant turned back to the cliff and gave the still body of the elf a last look before he pushed through his men and moved off without looking back. Adruran would probably give him that exasperated look of his again, but he didn't think that this question would be enough for him to question his decision. It was only one man, after all, and a man that hadn't been excessively useful or intelligent at that.  
  
Geran returned the bow to his quiver as he made his way through the undergrowth, his men following him mutely. This had not worked out at all the way he had imagined it, and in the end the elf had denied him the ultimate pleasure of killing him, damn him and his whole accursed race!  
  
He stopped that train of thought and once again tried to calm himself completely, knowing full well that he couldn't face his captain in his current state of mind, or Adruran might fulfil his promise and kill him in front of the men, in a highly unpleasant manner no doubt.  
  
And while he relished participating in such activities, he seriously doubted that the part of the one being bound to that pole held any appeal at all.  
  
  
  
  
Legolas awoke from one moment to the next, shooting upwards into a sitting position in a fraction of a second. The upright position lasted only for another second though, for he almost immediately sank back again, feeling paralysed with pain. Besides, there was a faint, but apparently very urgent voice inside his head that told him to lie back, be still and look as lifelessly as possible, for Eru's sake.  
  
He couldn't instantly remember why he would think such a thing, or why his entire body hurt as if a very big, very heavy rock had just fallen on top of him – or as if he had been on one of Aragorn's and his brothers' infamous trips to Bree and had lost one of their drinking contests again - but he somehow did know that he needed to be quiet and as still as possible.  
  
'Well,' he thought fuzzily, his mind still trying to catalogue the damage his body had sustained, 'Who am I to argue with myself?'  
  
A small, still reasonable part of his brain noted worriedly that this was a very bad, very concerning thing to think, but the rest of his mind didn't really know why, nor did it care. So the elven prince followed his own advice and remained where he was, his body wrecked with pain and his mind desperately trying to figure out just what had happened to him this time.  
  
The longer he lay there, the more of his memories came back to him, and soon he even understood just why he had to keep quiet and stay motionless: Geran might be there, up on the cliff's edge, just looking for a sign that he wasn't dead after all, and Legolas had no intention to provide it for the man.  
  
He also understood why he felt the way he did. His back hurt even more fiercely than it had before, and Legolas decided in an instant that he wouldn't look at it any time soon if he had any chance at all to prevent it. He was sure that he could feel stones and what felt like small sticks burrow into the welts in his back, and with the detachment that only great pain could bring, he realised that one particularly sharp rock ground into the partially exposed bone of a rib that the whipping had revealed.  
  
His attention dreamily turned to the rest of his body, and he frowned in confusion when he analysed the reports that slowly were relayed to his brain. His whole body seemed to be a gigantic bruise, but that wasn't something that particularly surprised him. Neither was the feeling that someone or something, probably someone or something with rather sharp and large teeth, had torn off his left arm, beaten it against something hard and solid and finally stuck it back on, only the wrong way round.  
  
No, what surprised him was the burning, stabbing pain in left shoulder that was really quite peculiar. The rest of his upper left arm felt comfortably numb, down to the elbow where his flesh turned into liquid fire, but his shoulder joint felt as if it was repeatedly stabbed by an ill-tempered troll armed with a particularly big javelin.  
  
This inconceivable pain finally prompted him to open his eyes after he was reasonably certain that there was no-one else here. Legolas was sure that he was in a bad shape, but even now he was rather certain that he would have heard it had there been humans anywhere close by.  
  
After a few more minutes he managed to get back into a sitting position, and he slowly and painstakingly moved backwards until his back hit solid rock, something that made it explode in a new wave of pain, something that he didn't even notice anymore. He quickly scanned the edge of the cliff, and his whole body sagged in relief when his eyes found nothing.  
  
They had taken his bait, they had believed his little charade. They thought he was dead, thank Ilúvatar and all the Valar…  
  
Legolas took a deep breath and slowly fixed his eyes on his left arm, inwardly rather sure that it was nothing he really wanted to see. He grimaced openly when his eyes came to rest on his forearm and the white, jagged pieces of his left radius that had burrowed through the skin of his arm and protruded from the flesh. One needn't be a physician or a healer to realise that this was a very bad break, and to be honest he was sure that he wouldn't be able to treat it properly here or even put a splint on it. He would need Aragorn to do that, who would probably rejoice at the opportunity to scowl at him and tell him how careless and irresponsible he was…  
  
"Aragorn!" he gasped out aloud, the thought of his friend filling him with renewed strength and resolve, not to mention a fair share of fear and worry. He needed to find a way back up there and help the human, he was sure that the young ranger had survived the cave-in, he just had to have. He refused to even consider the other option, namely that Aragorn was dead, and he truly alone now…  
  
The fair haired elven prince gritted his teeth and finally looked at his shoulder, and what he saw there very nearly cost him his composure. Not because the sight was too grizzly, nor because the wound was too terrible, no, only because he couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing. Legolas shook his head slowly, deciding that he must have hit it as well on his way down. That was the only explanation he could think of right now, there was simply no other reason why he would see one of his own arrows stick out of his left shoulder.  
  
He fixed tired eyes on his shoulder joint again, but everything remained just the same: There was still a dark wooden shaft protruding from just below the collarbone, the black colour contrasting sharply against the paleness of his skin. He was more or less naked from the waist up now, a part of his mind noticed detachedly, and what had once been a fine elven cloak really didn't deserve that name anymore. The fabric was so slashed and torn that it would only serve for bandages now, and that was exactly was Legolas was starting to produce right now as he began to tear the cloak into strips, working awkwardly because of the pain and the fact that he could use only his right arm.  
  
While he was fighting with a particularly stubborn piece of fabric that simply refused to be torn to pieces, he fervently tried to come up with a way to explain to himself why he had one of his own arrows in his left shoulder. After some more minutes he came to the conclusion that Geran must have shot him, probably to make sure that he was not faking. Or because he had felt like it, or because today was a sunny day, or because it was that time of year, who could tell?  
  
His ire went up another notch, and his hatred and fury for this particular human reached improbable heights. Mixed with it was shame as well though, for he truly did not think that his father, Aragorn or any other of his friends would be very impressed that he had managed to get shot with one of his own shafts, something that he was absolutely sure was unbecoming an elven warrior, not to mention a prince.  
  
O Elbereth, what would the twins or the younger palace guards say, he wondered horrified. They would never let him live this down, never…  
  
While he was still pondering this, he began to bind the more serious cuts he had sustained, quickly deciding to ignore his back for the time being. There was nothing he could do here, alone, without supplies and with only the use of one hand anyway, and he was quite sure that he would pass out with the pain the treatment would bring should he try, something that he could afford under absolutely no circumstances now.  
  
He then reluctantly turned his attention to his left arm and shoulder, something which he still wanted to avoid in truth. But there was nothing to be done about it at the moment, and so he clenched his teeth and began to feel for the tip of the arrow that should have come out somewhere on his back. Legolas gave a blood-curling curse when his probing fingers found only torn skin and muscle, but definitely nothing like an arrow tip. The arrow hadn't penetrated his shoulder, which, right now, was decidedly annoying. He couldn't remove it on his own the way things were right now, and he wasn't sure if he had the strength to push it through himself.  
  
Cursing some more for good measure, Legolas snapped the arrow about six inches from his shoulder and bound the wound as best as he could, certain that Lord Elrond would either have started to laugh or cry had he seen his makeshift bandage now. Clenching his teeth so tightly that he was sure he could hear small, cracking noises, he gave his forearm another fleeting glace before he decided that he had not nearly enough training in the healing arts to splint that break.   
  
He quickly covered the open wound with a bandage and lightly wrapped it around his forearm, suppressing the whispering voices that told him that he would never use that arm again if he was not careful. He wouldn't think about that, he thought firmly, clinging to the pain his ministrations created as something to take his mind off these dark thoughts, he _couldn't _think about that. He would still be able to wield a sword or dagger should his left arm not fully heal, but for archery you needed two strong, healthy arms, and it didn't matter whether you injured your left or right arm to ensure that you would never use a bow again.  
  
His firstborn strength and healing powers should be enough to ensure that the bone knitted swiftly, but if it wasn't set properly, he could be crippled, elven blood or not. It was something that happened very rarely among elves, but it was not unheard of, especially with bad breaks like this one. He had known an elf once whose arm had been mauled so badly by an attacking warg that he never regained full control over it again, no matter how much the healers at his father's palace had tried to fully mend the wound. He had been one of the older captains of the guard, and after some years he had left for the Undying Lands, unable to bear the feelings of helplessness and bitterness his disability had brought with it.  
  
Legolas eyed his bound left arm with a mixture of disdain and trepidation. With a small sigh he grabbed another strip of his torn cloak and began to bind the arm to his chest, trying to immobilise it as best as he could. This way it would hinder him even more, but he just couldn't risk aggravating the wound any further. The mere thought of not being able to use his bow, of being unable to practice his archery made his blood run cold and his heart freeze in his chest. He didn't know how he would cope with that, or if he could cope with that at all.  
  
The elf set his jaw as he fumbled to tie the ends of the straps together, his movements awkward and slow as he tried to force his tired and aching limbs to co-operate. He would deal with whatever would be happening to him, whenever it chose to happen – preferably a bit later, when he didn't feel as if he had been beaten with a very large, very blunt stick for a prolonged amount of time.  
  
Legolas reached behind him and placed his uninjured hand against the big rock he was leaning against. It took him a whole two minutes to get to his feet, and when he finally stood, swaying heavily, he would almost have fallen down again. Through sheer willpower he managed to remain upright, and with a tremendous effort he pushed back the pain and nausea that washed over him.  
  
He shortly looked at the snow at his feet that was spotted with more than a bit of red blood before he wrenched his eyes away from the sight, fixing them on the looming edge of the cliff above him. He would deal with the future when it came, but now he had to get up there to help his human friend.  
  
Legolas slowly began to make his way over to the rock face, looking intently for a way up, if possible a way that he could use with only one arm.   
  
He needed to get to Aragorn as fast as possible, and not only for his own sake. He didn't even want to begin to think about how the ranger had to feel right now, alone in a dark cave, waiting for him to return.  
  
  
  
  
King Dáin was walking through the corridors of his mountain, deep in conversation with the Lords Ori and Gloin, when one of the junior healers came running up to them, his still rather short beard swishing from side to side.  
  
The young dwarf skidded to a halt next to his king, giving him and his advisors a quick bow.  
  
"Sire!" he panted, having obviously run around quite a lot in his search for the king. "My lords," he added, inclining his head to the other two dwarves.   
  
Dáin gave the other a small smile, turning around fully.  
"What is the problem, young one?"  
  
"There is no problem, my lord," the young dwarf answered and caught his breath as best as possible. "But you wanted to be informed when the elf was waking." He took a deep breath and continued, apparently deciding to state this as clearly as he could, "He is waking up now, a whole three hours before he should."  
  
Dáin exchanged a quick look with his advisors. This was what they had been waiting for; they needed as much information as possible before they could set their plan in motion. The dwarven king grimaced slightly. He just hoped that the elf would be a bit more lucid this time.  
  
"Has he said anything yet?" Ori asked, looking at him interestedly, while Gloin simply huffed and frowned heavily.  
  
"No, not really, my lord," the healer answered, following the three older dwarves who had taken up their walk once more and were heading for the healing caves now. "He started to wake a quarter of an hour ago, and was mumbling quite a lot." A mask of confusion spread over his face. "He said his prince's name a few time, as well as 'nightmare' and Eztil, the ranger's name."  
  
"Estel," Ori corrected automatically.  
  
"If you say so, sir," the healer shrugged, clearly not interested in the pronunciation of elvish names.  
  
They reached the entrance of the caves where the healers were residing, and Dáin turned, hiding another smile. He motioned the young dwarf to precede them and looked at his two councillors, giving Gloin a stern look.  
  
"I think it would be best of you stayed here, Gloin," he told him in a tone of voice that did not encourage any arguments, not that Gloin would have wanted to argue anyway.  
  
"Right," Ori nodded, giving the other dwarf a sly look. "Your face would probably be enough to send the elf back into unconsciousness."  
  
Gloin glared darkly at his companion and turned to face his king.  
"And would that be so bad, my lord?"  
  
Dáin lifted a bushy eyebrow and looked at his advisor in surprise.  
"If he lost consciousness? Are you mad, Gloin? Of course it would be bad, we need to find out as much as possible about these men before we do anything. I will not endanger the lives of our warriors needlessly!"  
  
The other dwarf folded his arms across his chest and lifted his chin, eyes flashing darkly in his face.  
"I know you would not, sire, but I think you still do! You trust him, you trust an elf?"  
  
Ori rolled his eyes. He himself had thought so as well when he had been younger, and while he was still convinced that the elves were the strangest and most annoying lot he had ever met, he had still learned during his travels with Thorin, the small Master Baggins and the others that there were exceptions to every rule. He smiled slightly when he thought back to the weeks they had spent in Rivendell, in the Last Homely House of Lord Elrond Half-elven. That had been a place whose beauty could even rival the glorious caves of the Lonely Mountain, and that was the highest compliment he could think of.  
  
"Some elves can be trusted, Gloin," he reminded the other quietly. "Think of Rivendell."  
  
Gloin brushed his words aside with a move of his hand.  
"He's not Elrond, Ori, but rather a subject of King Thranduil, that is something _you _should think of."  
  
"Enough!" Dáin snapped testily, his patience with Gloin's continuous complaints spent. He looked the other to dwarves in the eye and continued, "But yes, Gloin, I do trust this elf, and be it only because he had no reason to lie to us. He wants to find the other two as badly as we do, if not even more so. These men have most likely killed my brother's sons, brought us to the brink of war with Dale and attacked our allies, and if I need to trust the word of an elf who is one of these allies to make them pay for it, then I am prepared to do just that!"  
  
Gloin grumbled a little at that, but did not question his lord's decision again. Dáin dismissed him with a wave of his hand and turned to enter the healing wing, closely followed by Ori.  
  
The first thing he noticed was the scent of fragrant herbs that seemed to fill the spacious cavern, perfuming the air and instantly soothing the dwarven king's weary mind. They needed only to walk a few paces until they reached a slightly smaller cave where the healers had decided to put the elf, and when they entered the small space, Dáin noted that the smell was even stronger in here.  
  
His eyes wandered over a long table that sat in the one corner of the cave, every square inch covered with pots, bunches of dried herbs, mortars, phials and small bowls. His healers had apparently used every single herb and medicine they could think of to keep the elf in this world, and he knew that it had been nothing short of a miracle that they had succeeded.  
  
The master healer, a dwarf very small even for their race with a grey beard, just struggled to reach a small bundle of herbs on a shelf above the table, but amusing as that sight was, Dáin didn't offer to help him. The older dwarf was known for his quick temper and fierce pride that somehow didn't stop him from being patient and compassionate with his patients, and while Dáin might be king, he knew better than to alienate him. No matter who or what you were, it was never a clever thing to have the master healer as your enemy.  
  
After some grumbling and standing on his toes, the old dwarf managed to reach the herbs, and when he grabbed them to put them down on the table, he noticed that Ori and Dáin had entered the room.  
  
"Your majesty, my lord," he nodded respectfully, but with the somehow smug look of a being that knew that everyone was afraid of him to a certain degree.  
  
"Dofur," the King of Erebor returned the nod. "Your apprentice informed me that our guest is waking up?"  
  
The healer grumbled, wiping his hands on a cloth to clean it of the juices of the herbs he had been working with.  
  
"It took the lad long enough to find you, then." He jerked his head into the direction of the bed that was situated at the other end of the cave. "He woke up almost half an hour ago now, and in Aulë's name, I don't know how he did it. He should be unconscious for at least three more hours, but," the old dwarf shrugged, "there he is. He didn't know where he was in the beginning, and he was saying some rather strange things, but he has been asking for you. Rather persistent, that one."  
  
"Is he awake now?" Dáin questioned, giving the unmoving figure in the bed a quick look. "Can I speak to him?"  
  
"Well," Dofur began, "From a medical point of view, I presume that you can since he adamantly refused to take any medicine that might make him lose consciousness again, not even something against the pain." The dwarf crossed his arms over his chest. "From a normal person's point of view though I can only advise you to try. He is … well, he's an elf."  
  
"Yes, I think he is," Ori agreed with a small smile. "That would explain why he is so tall as well."  
  
Dofur gave the younger elf a glare that promised very unpleasant things that would happen to him the next time he was his patient.  
"Yes, my lord," he agreed in a silky tone of voice that made a cold shiver of fear run down Ori's back. "It definitely would."  
  
The dwarven king suppressed a small grin at the mortified expression that flittered across his advisor's face as the three of them stepped closer to where the elf lay, Dofur following the other two dwarves with a stern expression on his face that promised that he would throw both of them out, king or not, if he saw the health of his patient endangered.  
  
Dáin stopped a few feet in front of the bed, suppressing a rather uncertain expression. He gazed at the still, pale figure of the silver haired elf that lay motionlessly on the bed on his side, eyes tightly closed and face drawn with pain he was obviously trying to fight right now. While he was still trying to find the right words to say to him, the elf's eyes opened slowly, blinking a few times as he concentrated on the faces in front of him.  
  
Celylith waited for the faces to come into focus, and when they did, he had to fight the urge to close his eyes again. 'Wonderful,' he thought as he tried to ignore the sharp, stabbing pain in his back. 'I am in the pits of Angband, I just have to be, and any second now Morgoth is going to make an appearance to graciously welcome me to his home.'  
  
He knew of course that he was in Erebor, in the home of King Dáin, and not in Melkor's dungeons, but a small, irrational part of his brain still hoped that the whole situation would somehow change from a nightmarish to a normal one.  
  
After a few seconds he accepted that this would most likely not happen and opened his mouth to speak.  
"King Dáin."  
  
He frowned, trying to decide if that voice had truly been his. It had sounded so alien, harsh and hoarse and gruff … dwarvish, he realised with an inward giggle. His amusement turned into concern though, was he turning into a dwarf? For all he knew he might be, his muddled brain reasoned, he was stuck in a cave with a bunch of them after all, one could never be sure about these things…  
  
The dwarven king had apparently not noticed his confusion, for he only inclined his head a fraction of an inch.  
"Lord Celylith. I am glad to see you so…" Dáin hesitated and finally added, "…so alive." He honestly couldn't say that the elf looked good.  
  
Celylith fought in vain to stifle the small smile that was beginning to show on his face and he slowly began to grin. He appreciated that the dwarf didn't tell him that he looked good or better – something he seriously doubted, by the way – or asked him how he felt.  
  
"Your Majesty is too kind." He quickly sobered and added, still surprised how weak his voice sounded, "Have … have the prince or Strider been found?"  
  
Dáin shook his head, dark eyes looking seriously at the pale elf in front of him.  
"No, I'm afraid not. We were hoping you could help us with that."  
  
The elven warrior grimaced, disappointment and fear flittering across his face, swiftly followed by pain when he began to push himself into a more or less sitting position. Dofur took a step forward and began to protest, but the elf ignored him as if he were nothing but a chirping bird that insisted on squeaking without reason. The dwarven healer relented when it became apparent that the elf wouldn't heed his orders and stepped back again, giving his patient scathing glares and grumbling under his breath.  
  
After some moments, Celylith opened his eyes again, deciding that, even despite the excruciating pain, it had been worth it. He now looked at the dwarves from a much more dignified position which even made him forget about the pain in his body.  
  
"I will do what I can to find my companions," he stated quietly, blinking quickly to get rid of the growing grey spots that began to cloud his vision.  
  
Dáin nodded, amazed by the stubbornness this one displayed. The elf sat rigidly in his bed, his face under the bruises and cuts as white as the bandage that covered his torso, swaying like grass in the wind, but his eyes were hard and determined when he looked at the three dwarves.   
  
A small smile flittered over Celylith's face and he inclined his head minutely.  
"But where are my manners." He hesitated shortly, swallowing his pride and trying to ignore the fact that these were _naugrim_. "Thank you for saving my life, your Majesty, and I am sure that my king would be very thankful for anything you could do to help find Prince Legolas and the ranger."  
  
The dwarven king blinked and traded a look with Ori. That was the last thing he had expected the elf to say, but when he viewed the whole thing in this particular way, it was a very interesting idea to have the King of Mirkwood indebted to you. Dáin suppressed a small smile. He would have done all he could to find the Prince of Mirkwood and Strider anyway, and be it only to prevent a war, but to have King Thranduil owing you something, that was a thought that filled him with a warm, very gleeful feeling.  
  
"Well," Dáin began, battling the slight grin that was threatening to spread over his face, "Of course we will do anything we can to help, Master Elf, and you are welcome. It was young Frór and his brother Frerin who found you, actually."  
  
Celylith gulped, a vicious Quenya curse sounding in his mind. Frór – hadn't that been the one who had brought them here into this accursed hole in the ground in the first place, the one who had insulted his king? He almost closed his eyes. Wonderful, just wonderful, now he owned his life to a dwarf, and of all the hundred dwarves that populated this place, it had to be this one.  
  
"I see," he weakly murmured, noticing that his arms that were keeping him upright were beginning to tremble with the strain of supporting his weight. He clenched his teeth; he would have to hurry if he didn't want to collapse in front of King Dáin the others. "He has my thanks, then." He returned his eyes to the king. "You don't know where they are?"  
  
Dáin narrowed his eyes, trying to determine if there had been a sarcastic undertone in the elf's voice.  
"No," he admitted. "But the tracks led South and then West, towards the western slopes of the mountain, but a few leagues from the slope we lost them. Do you know who the men were that ambushed you?"  
  
The elf closed his eyes and shook his head uncertainly.  
"Not with absolute certainty, no. But I don't think that they were the Lake-men, for that their behaviour was too organised. I think they were the third group Estel – Strider," he clarified quickly, "told you about. The ones that are probably planning to grab the treasure once the others have found it."  
  
The dwarf grumbled something under his breath, and Celylith decided that this entire race sounded definitely like a bunch of disgruntled dogs.  
  
"Then they will be where the treasure is," Ori commented thoughtfully. "They will be as close to their prey as possible."  
  
Celylith nodded tiredly.  
"I agree. I think that they took them to their camp, which should be on the western hangs."  
  
Dáin looked at his councillor.  
"Now we have a location."   
  
Ori nodded, dark eyes gleaming, but before he could retort something, the silver haired elf's voice spoke up again, seemingly growing weaker by the second.  
"You are planning something?"  
  
Dáin nodded, ignoring the glacial looks he received from Dofur for keeping the elf talking for so long.  
"Yes, Lord Celylith, we are. Our warriors stand at the ready; all we needed was a place to send them to. We will leave tomorrow morning." The dwarf noticed the confused look on the elf's face and added, "It is late afternoon and about a day since you left my halls."  
  
Celylith blinked slowly, slightly surprised by this. With the ambush, his fall and the darkness of the caves he had completely lost every bit of his sense of time.  
  
"Then you want to wait for twelve more hours before doing something?" he asked incredulously, "Do you _know _what these men could be doing to Prince Legolas or Strider?"  
  
Dáin's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth, prepared to say something rather impolite and not very diplomatic when he felt Ori's hand close around his arm as his advisor spoke up before he could.  
  
"Yes, Master Celylith, we do know," he nodded seriously at the elf, meeting his irate dark blue gaze steadily, "But dwarves were not made for sneaking through a dark forest at dead of night." He decided to ignore the rather smug smile that could be seen on the elf's face and added, "If we were to move out now, we would get there when darkness had already fallen, and therefore we would lose our element of surprise. We cannot help the prince and his companion when the men know that we are coming before we have even set foot into the vicinity of their camp."  
  
That seemed to make sense to the elf, for he nodded after a second, silver hair falling forward to frame his pale face.  
"You are right," Celylith admitted, telling himself that he would not apologise to them. Definitely not. He forced his tired eyelids to remain open and attempted to recreate Lord Elrond's _look_. "I will accompany you."  
  
Dáin looked at him unwillingly, but before he could voice his misgivings, Dofur took a step forwards, eyebrows knitted and eyes flashing in his old, careworn face.  
"I'll be damned if I let you go anywhere in the next two weeks and ruin my stitches."  
  
Celylith looked at the small old dwarf, attempting to raise an eyebrow but finding that it hurt too much to do so. He wanted to keep him in this cave for _two weeks_? He was already beginning to feel claustrophobic and trapped in here, and he had been conscious for less than an hour since he had been brought here.  
  
"Elves heal faster than other races," he announced haughtily, almost ruining that statement's effect by toppling over and falling flat on his face when his arms threatened to give out. "I will not stay here and let you go after my friends alone."  
  
"Yes, you will, elf," the dwarven healer insisted and glared at his king for support. "I will not allow you to get yourself killed because of that boneheaded elven stubbornness of yours!"  
  
Celylith swallowed slowly and reminded himself that he didn't have the strength to realise the rather attractive pictures that flittered through his mind right now, namely strangling the dwarf with his own beard. It would probably be rather impolite, too .  
  
"It is none of your business, _nogotheg_," he replied, not providing a translation, not that it would have been necessary. "You will not tell me what and what not to do!"  
  
Dáin shot the two beings that glared at each other a quick look before he stepped forward, deciding that he should end this before they started hurting each other. While Dofur could be rather annoying from time to time, he was still an excellent healer and those were hard to come by, and he was rather sure that it wouldn't make a good impression on the Elvenking if his master healer strangled one of his subjects in a fit of rage, justified as it might be.  
  
"Perhaps we can come to an agreement," he said, trying to make his voice sound as convincing and diplomatic as possible. His efforts were in vain though, for the two of them simply stopped glaring at each other and turned to glare at him instead.   
  
Dáin grimaced slightly and quickly continued, noticing how the elf's face became paler by the second.   
"We will leave early in the morning, which gives us about twelve more hours. If my healer declares you strong enough to stay on a horse tomorrow, we will take you with us as far as we are able. You will have to stay with the animals though; there is absolutely no way for you to walk more than a hundred yards, not to mention to move stealthily through a wooded area."  
  
The dwarven king rolled his eyes at the elf's stubborn face and added,  
  
"Scouts are being sent out as we speak. We will find their camp and bring your companions back, don't worry, but you won't help anyone if you collapse after walking a few feet."   
  
Celylith studied the solemn face of the king for a moment, and decided after a few seconds that, somehow, inexplicably, he believed this dwarf. He didn't fully trust them, for one could never know what they were planning, but he believed that this one would do as promised.  
  
"Alright," he conceded, finally giving in to his body's needs and allowing himself to sink back onto his mattress, "I will accept that, your Majesty."  
  
He didn't really have another option, he thought tiredly as he watched the King of Erebor nod and, after some mumbled words that could be interpreted as a wish for him to rest comfortably, walk off, trailed by the irate healer that looked back over his shoulder now and then, giving the elf dark, reproachful glances. They began to speak in their guttural language, the healer no doubt complaining about this impossible elven patient, and as his body began to relax, causing the pain to spike again, Celylith decided that he somehow managed to antagonise every healer whose way he crossed.  
  
He was still pondering this when he drifted off to sleep, sighing almost inaudible when the pain in his back slowly faded, and just before he lost himself in the numbing, peaceful darkness, he decided that he would not let these dwarves dictate what he did and did not do.  
  
Legolas and Aragorn needed him, and he would not stay behind with the horses to let the smaller being deal with the ones that had abducted his friends.  
  
  
  
  
'Lift a foot, set it down, lift a foot, set it down, lift a foot, set it down…'  
  
Legolas repeated the mantra over and over again as he struggles to keep walking, inwardly rather amazed that he hadn't collapsed already. He certainly felt like doing just that, and only the thought of his human friend kept him upright and moving.   
His elven strength allowed him to keep going when a mortal's would have given up a long time ago, but Legolas was beginning to see that Ilúvatar hadn't intended elven bodies to go through this kind of treatment either. Sooner or later he would reach the point where he couldn't go on, and he was beginning to suspect that it would be sooner, or in fact very soon.  
  
He shortly stopped to regain his breath, clutching his injured arm to his chest in an attempt to deal with the pain. It had taken him a very long time to find a small, steep, stony path that led up onto the plateau, and even longer for him to climb it. With only one arm and his back ripped open, he moved at a painstakingly slow speed, but he simply couldn't move any faster. Legolas was sure that he couldn't increase his speed even if he were chased by all the demons of Morgoth combined, or his father on a bad day. Whichever was worse, right now he hadn't the strength to think about that.  
  
The fair haired prince pushed a sweat-soaked strand of hair behind his ear, and, swaying slightly, looked around him to try and find out where he was. He had reached the small clearing at the cliff's edge about forty minutes ago, but even at his slow pace he should have reached the cave already. The quickly descending darkness did nothing to help him orientate himself either, but finally he spied the heap of fallen, snow covered rocks that lay half on the path that wound around it. That meant that he was very close to where Aragorn was, he told himself, new strength coursing through his veins at that thought.  
  
He forced himself to start moving again, and picked up his pace as far as he was able. With one ear always listening for something that would indicate that the men had left a guard behind, he rounded the stones some time later, and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the heap of sharp rocks and splintered wood that had been the cave entrance only a few hours ago.  
  
Legolas simply stood there for a few seconds, staring at the stones, before he came put of his trance-like state. Forgetting about his injuries, he rushed forwards, carefully navigating on the stone covered ground, trying not to lose his footing. He inched as close to the blocked cave entrance as possible, looking for a way to remove the debris that was piled up there, but quickly saw that there was no way for him to move more than a couple of stones. Far too heavy and big rocks lay there in a jumbled heap, and he doubted that even a troupe of dwarves would have been able to do anything about them.  
  
Dark, choking despair threatened to overcome his senses, but Legolas pushed it back, pressing his good hand against the stones and laying his head next to it. The sharp edges of the rocks dug into his skin, but he paid that no heed, thoroughly concentrated on hearing something, _anything _that might prove that Aragorn was alive and well on them other side of this wall.  
  
He shook his head unwillingly when his own laboured breathing and wildly beating heart drowned out all sounds that might have emanated from the inside of the cave. He closed his eyes in an attempt to concentrate even better.  
  
"Aragorn!" he called. "Aragorn! Answer me! Can you hear me? Aragorn!!"  
  
He listened as closely as he could, but there was nothing, no voice calling him, not even a moan of pain, nothing. The despair inside of his grew and intensified, and Legolas felt how tears were beginning to leak from his tightly closed eyes. Elbereth, please, this could not be!   
  
"Estel!!" he called again. "Do not force me to tell your father and brothers of your death! Please, stubborn human, answer me! Let me know you are alive, please, Aragorn…"  
  
Legolas pressed his head closer to the wall, tears of exhaustion and fear coursing down his cheeks as he listened intently for a sound, any sound, but there was nothing.   
  
All there was was the deafening noise of silence, drowning out the sounds of his surroundings and leaving him alone and broken in his pain and despair.  
  
  
  
  
  
**TBC...  
  
  
  
  
  
** _naugrim - 'Stunted People', dwarves  
nogotheg - dwarflet  
  
  
  
  
  
_***fake sobs* Poor, poor Legolas. He's really not very well at the moment - but at least he's alive, for now that is, of course... The question is though, is Aragorn? Or has he been squashed to jelly by the bear, which, btw, is NOT an endangered species in ME? The answer to that and other things we see in the next chapter which will probably be here on Thursday, plus/minus a day. I don't know how things are at home, so we'll see. As always, reviews are appreciated and provide me with the much needed motivation to keep writing. So: Review? Please??  
  
  
  
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**Additional A/N:  
  
A Person - **Not impressed? Well, I'll have to do better next time then - you are aware that you just triggered the next round of cliffies, right? *g* And the ear was your fault? Then I can only say DAMN YOU, because it really, really hurt. You're evil. Congratulations. *g*  
**Mouse5** - *huggles Mouse* Thanks for saying that I'm evil, that made my day. And the other question I can answer: No, I'm not normal, I guess. Not that that's a bad thing... *g* I was thinking hard about getting them out of this particular mess as well, it is always easier to get them INTO them than OUT. But I'm getting there...  
**TrinityTheSheDevil** - Ah, but who's counting? The cliffies, I mean? If you did, you would see that it's been a series of cliffies since Ch. 18 now - somehow I'm really in the mood lately.... *g* Well, I haven't tried roasted marshmellows yet, I've only had them in ice cream or hot chocolate or something. They were quite nice there, though. And you're welcome to roast Geran of course, but _after_ I've finished the fic, if possible. *glares threateningly* Understood?  
**Firniswin** - *grins sheepishly* Well, about the cliffies - I'm sorry? I'm just on a roll right now, and somehow the chapters all end as cliffies. I don't know why either, but I'm sure it's not my fault. Thanks for your reviews!  
**Gwyn** - *nods* I know. It was more a cliff-faller or a cliff-jumper or something like that - but it involved a cliff and an abrupt ending, so that's enough for me. *g* Thanks for your well wishes, the ear's better now. It's so nice not to eat painkillers like candy for a change... *g*  
**Sheila** - Thank you! It's very nice to see a new reviewer, and it's nice to hear that you like my weird, insane, demented little stories. Thank you for your kind words and your review, which always help to make me update. Thanks!  
**Maranwe1** - *hangs head* I'm sorry. I didn't mean to spoil anything, I just couldn't help myself, and I was on antibiotics and painkillers... *sniffs* Sorry. And yes, the men should be VERY scared by now, if they were sensible, which they are not, obviously. Their problem, they will see what comes of that... *g* The Valar probably are laughing - I was at least, well, perhaps not exactly laughing, but rather grinning evilly. You're writing a 40-words-essay? I guess you mean 40 pages? That's quite long, yes... And I will gladly read your story as soon as I have a bit time, but the problem is that I don't at the moment. I have barely enough time to write and post, and for reading there's not much left - I haven't even had time to have a look at Cassia's new one! And that means something...  
**Firnsarnien** - Well, you know me and cliffies - I simply cannot resist! And the CLF shouldn't be complaining - he's alive, isn't he? No-cliffies was no part of the deal! And that sock can't possibly be mine, because due to the hot weather I haven't worn socks for the past few weeks. *sticks out tongue* Ha! *reads paragraph in review* Hmmmm, why would my readers not like me? I have no idea, none at all... *innocent grin***  
Leggylover03** - Well, why did I know you would love the Aragorn pain? Oh, that's a tricky question, I really don't know... *g* I guess everyone will be avenging everyone! They all get a chance to, I guess...  
**Eva27** - Oh, I know what you mean. That's the reason why I put a password in my screensaver... *g* Once I came back from college to find a huge poster of D. Boreanaz (=Angel) as a wallpaper. I don't like him to begin with, but the picture was ... interesting. Of the barely clothed sort. It was a horrible experience... *shudders* And I put in a curse in the next chapter, just for you - even though it's neither very creative nor sounds very fearsome in Elvish, but it took me half an hour to formulate it correctly! *grumbles* Don't you just hate all that nasal mutation, soft mutation & Co.?  
**Cestari** - Great you liked the Glorfindel scene, I like it quite a bit myself... He's just adorable, out dear golden haired elf. *huggles him* Thanks for all your nice reviews! It's great to get so much nice feedback!  
**Carrie** - I love the twins and Glorfindel too, they are wonderful! I mainly put the scene in because I missed writing them, I just couldn't stand it anymore... *begins to sob* Need - my - twins! *gets a grip* Well, in the next story, I guess. LOL, a 'nice' bear? Like the goat which raised Zeus and the wolf which raised Romulus and Remus? Well, it was a nice idea, but no... *g* Yes, Celylith has bad nightmares, but I just couldn't resist! If I am not allowed to kill him, then I have to give him some mental angst! Thank you for your kind words, and I couldn't write an entirely serious paragraph to save my life. It's just not possible, I somehow always come up with these stupid things someone could think or say... *shrugs* Ah well. Nothing I can do about that.  
**Brethil, Estelle** - Believe me, I live with the constant feat that, somehow, my readers DO find me and get their own back for the cliffies. That would not be so good, really... Thanks, the ear is in fact better! Thank you Ibuprofen! *kisses her painkillers*  
**Fliewatuet** - Well, it wasn't exactly an illness, more an evil, sneaky infection that had decided that my ear looked like a wonderful spot to settle down and multiply - but my faithful friend, Anti B. Otics, took care of that... *rereads sentence* Gosh, did I just write that? I'm still a bit ... odd, huh? LOL, the 'Evil Author' (TM)? That is an interesting idea, am I a trademark now? *coughs as she reads the Geran-perforates-Legolas-bit* Eh ... what? Me? Perforate elven warriors? Never...   
**Sirithiliel** - Celylith is indeed in a dreadful situation, and Legolas is none too happy right now - especially since the poor guy doesn't even know that his friend isn't dead... *sighs* Poor elf. Thanks for your review!  
**Grumpy - **I have no idea why you all thought of a dwarf, probably because you thought I am a nice person and would let Aragorn get out of this easily - Mhahaha! Not really! *g* Ears are indeed very unforgiving in their pain. *grumbles* Oh yes, they are, if I didn't need you I'd cut you off, would serve you right...  
**Halo** - It was SO nice seeing you! *huggles* And the movie was really good too! Sorry for not writing sooner, but I'm really not much online lately, to be honest, not at all. And I WILL GET THE DVD! I can't stand it anymore! I must havessss it, preciousssss... And I will get it, I'll go to London tomorrow, so I'll just get it there... *g* Yes, Aragorn IS horribly, horrifically ... hurt, but you know that nothing 'serious' will happen to him, so what's your problem? *g*   
**Coreinha** - *sighs* There she goes again... *grabs Celylith out of Cor's pocket* Will you stop that? You guys... Great you didn't expect the bear! That was why I put it in, my thoughts exactly: Who had a bear yet? Not many people, I believe... And the Ibuprofen didn't make me see elephants, it just made me incredibly sleepy, the whole light-headed-thing was the antibiotics' fault, perhaps in combination with the Ibuprofen, I dunno. I never take painkillers, I think I have taken 5 in the past five or six years, so I have no experience with them. You're on drugs too? Poor thing! *huggles Cor*  
**E** - Sorry again, I didn't want to spoil it. I was not really thinking, and was so excited that I had finally written a cliffHANGER, at least more or less... Sorry. Yes, Aragorn has to live to be 210 and Legolas has to pass into the West, but what if I make this A/U? Well? Ever thought about that? *g* And I think that Groin, or Gróin, whichever you prefer, was Gloin's (or Glóin's) father, therefore Gimli's grandfather. *runs off to check it* He won't be in this story though, sorry.  
**Aratfeniel** - LOL, 'very, very bruised' doesn't even begin to cover it... No, how did you know that? That Celylith will want to get up before the healers allow him to? You are psychic or something.. *g* Thanks a lot for all your reviews!  
**Bec** - Yep, I AM feeling better! *dances to prove it* See? Lots better! And nope, to have one character in mortal danger is not enough, you need as least two to make it interesting, and if you have three or four it gets enjoyable... *evil grin* I hope the update was fast enough for you!  
**Bailey** - It weren't three cliffies in one, more like two. Right? It wasn't that bad... I am really sorry for posting so late last chapter, and hope that this is soon enough to appease you a bit. Yes?  
**CrazyLOTRfan** - Finally, someone who liked the cliffhanger/Legolas-jumps-off-the-cliff-bit! Thanks! *huggles* Your good friend, Tylenol Extra Strength? That does sound very much like MY good friend, Ibuprofen Extra Strong! *g* You are having a look at forest fires? *wide-eyed* Uhm, alright, if you enjoy things like that - I hope your house (and computer) didn't burn down!  
**LOTRFaith** - Of course Nili's gonna kill the bad guys, otherwise YOU people would get really cross with me, huh? And yes, the dwarves are coming to the rescue, it just takes them some time, I guess - they're dwarves, after all... I am a Master Mind? *beams* Thank you! That's a very nice thing to say! Thanks! And the ear's better too, thanks again!  
**XsilicaX** - Aww, you worked for nine hours and still write a review! That's so sweet, thank you! *huggles her* LOL, yes indeed, it IS cruel irony - you gotta love it, huh? Oh, I DO enjoy being evil... *g* The 'spider enticing prey into web dance'? That's interesting, somehow I can picture it pretty well... And yes, I guess Celylith might be a bit mentally damaged if he ever gets out of that mountain. *nods* Yes, preciousss, he will be... Thank you very much for pointing these things out to me, why does no-one else do that? How am I supposed to learn if people don't tell me? *shakes random reader* HOW???   
**Imbefaniel** - You're crying a lot lately? That IS bad, really, and can be rather embarassing, I imagine. And then you got carsick too, poor thing. *huggles Imbafaniel carefully* Hope everything's a bit better now, thanks a lot for your reviews!  
**Amelie** - Gosh, I do feel lucky - and honoured! Only five minutes on the computer and you use them to write a review for me? That's so sweet - thanks! And now that you pointed it out, I guess that everybody goes 'thud' in this story quite a lot - poor them. And it wasn't Celylith's fault that his sister's fiancée died, even though he blamed himself - they all do that, don't they? It was Amaran's own fault, he should have been more careful, even though it's somehow understandable that he wasn't... And yes, Celylith's face will heal, IF he survives the story in the first place, that is.... J/K! Jeez, it was a joke, put down that sledgehammer! Now!  
**Alilacia** - I'm sorry about the cliffies, but they just happen lately - my alter ego, you know how she is... Celylith truly isn't a very happy elf right now, and neither is Legolas - I think nobody is particularly happy in this chapter! *gasp* You haven't been to the British Museum? I go there every time I get to visit London, but then again, I DO study History, so I guess I have to go... And I resent the last comment, I am not insane! I am merely different. *g*  
**Alex Mistress Squirrel** - That's why I put it in, because bears have rarely been used, I think. I like to keep things interesting... *evil grin* Great you still like it, thanks a lot for the review!  
**Vampy2k** - *g* It was my pleasure! I never really wanted to kill him anyway... Thanks for reviewing!  
**Sirith** - Well, if you hate cliffies, I have the bad feeling that you won't be feeling so happy right now ... I'm sorry! But I do love them - if I write them, that is... And why don't you like my chasing pink elephants? *huggles her elephants* They're adorable, really!  
**Zam **- LOL, what do I think you are? Are you really ready for that answer, Zam? You might not like it... *g* Hmmm... bathroom=Badezimmer, Merry Christmas=Froehliche Weihnachten, I love you=Ich liebe dich. *nods contently* Now you know how to spell it, not that you really wanted to, probably... And I essentially told her to hit you and Lina as hard as she could and not worry about the consequences since you _deserved_ it. That was the essence of it, yes. Whatever... That flashback scene did have a purpose! I missed the twins and needed to bring them back for a short scene, that was the purpose! Besides, it was cute, you're right there... *g* Argh! Back! Back, evil girl! *grabs her and drags her away from Celylith* He's HURT, for cryin' out loud! You can't just 'savagely huggle' him! And he's in a lot of pain - so he isn't really in the mood to be polite to _dwarves_... *runs off to escape Zam's wrath*  
**TrustingFriendship** - Uhm, no I don't think you need a prescription for my dear friend Ibuprofen Extra Strong - even though you probably should, since it _is_ pretty powerful... And yes, given the men's intelligence they probably will fall for Leglas' little trick, but the not-too-hurt-bit ... Eh, gottagobye? I am so glad you still like it, thanks so much for all your reviews! *huggles*  
**Lembas7** - Well, the rest is - not written yet? I used to be three to four chapters ahead, but since I haven't had enough time to write here, I am down to one and a half... *grumbles* Good thing it's finished soon... You DO sound a little bit like Yoda, yes, but that's no problem, I love every reviewer and new ones particularly! *huggles* Yeah, I'm not into Slash myself, I mean, I don't flame them or anything, even though I sometimes want to, especially when they write stories like Aragorn-forgets-about-Arwen-and-Legolas-promptly-gives-up-his-immortality-for-him - which he could not, even if he wanted to. *shakes head* Have these people even take ONE look at the books? Whatever, thank you very much for all your compliments, and thanks for reviewing too! They DO inspire me!  
**LOTRMatrixStarwarsfan - ***g* Right. It's all Aragorn's own fault for being so charming and attractive, what is he thinking? *g* And can you blame Legolas for not feeling very cheerful right now? I mean, I think I would get concerned if he _were_ cheerful... *blushes furiously* Thanks! I like compliments, even thought they give me delusions of grandeur! *huggles* Thanks! No Prozac needed, the ear's better, the elephants are caught and are in the bathroom for now, and what did you say? *points at ear* Up-what? You want a post? What's that supposed to mean, I can't hear you... *g*  
**Tapetum Lucidum** - Right. Who wants to learn about the Second Punic War when one can be torturing elves and rangers? LOL, he has a nice warm blanky? Well, yes, I guess you could say that, even thought the blanky weights a bit more than the usual ones, hm? Glad you liked the 'teeth-line', I was chuckling myself when I wrote that - it's always nice to hear that someone else likes my favourite lines... The delegation to Mirkwood is a good idea, the problem though is that even in good weather it would take at least five days to get there and the same to get back, so no matter what they do, they'll be too late. *shrugs* Poor them.  
**Marbienl** - An internet café which doesn't have Word? That's pathetic, really... But it's sweet you go there to send the review, thanks! Uhm, did I mention that I am immune to hypnosis? Doesn't work on me, sorry... And I DO have a social life, unfortunately - that's why I can't update so frequently right now. Thanks btw, the ear's better. I can hear again, most of the time, that is. And bears are not an endangered species in ME, there are lots of them. How I know that? I am the omniscient author, don't argue with me! And don't worry, I will come up with a death for Hanar. He does deserve death for hurting our favourite ranger... *evil grin* *tired sigh* PLEASE stop giving him Red Bull! He's unconscious, can't you see that? He will suffocate ... stop it! LOL, yes, Geran has to die. He didn't really know what he was doing, I think... Legolas' head as a trophy on the wall? Okay, seriously disturbing picture here... And, alright, it _did_ sound fatherly, but he was barely conscious and I guess that was the reason why the dwarf healer said it. He isn't acting very fatherly in the future, believe me. *g* You know the dwarven battle yell? Not many people know it, but I think I'll put it in. I looked it up when I started writing the story, so I might as well. And yes. The M in my second name is for Melkor. *g***  
Strider's Girl - ***beams* I'm the Queen of Evilness? Wow, that's so sweet! Thank you very much! I admit that the three of them are not doing too well, right now, but things could be worse, right? Things can always get worse, so they should be grateful! My evil side is far too strong to defeat though - I sometimes manage to subdue her for a chapter or two, but that's it. Sorry. LOL, 'your Evilness', I like that!  
**Reginabean** - Of course Celylith is alive, and if he's lucky he might even stay that way for a chapter or two - j/k! Really! It was a joke, calm down, Jeez... You posted a story? Yay! *confetti falls from ceiling - I borrowed that from Zam* Unfortunately right now it DOES interfere with my writing, since I am about five minutes online a day, and have absolutely no time reading stories - I haven't even started C&S' new one! That's how little time I have! *sobs* It's just horrible... So, as soon as I have a little time, I promise to have a look at it, but right now I just can't, sorry. I'm sure it's great though!  
**Lina** - LOL, yes, there's something much more sinister than a pack of wargs in the cave - it's a LINA! Run for your lives! *g* And the image of you wrestling the bear is interesting, to say the least, and somehow I just can imagine it - which is rather alarming... You tickled it to death? That's cruel, Lina! The poor thing! How could you! Please give my regards to Éomer, congrats on keeping you at bay for a chapter! It's hard work, we all know that...  
**Critternut** - The spear wasn't a spear per se, but a splintered piece of wood that was tipped and therefore _looked_ like a spear. It wasn't a real one. Well ... that he could eat the bear is an interesting idea, even though it might prove to be a bit hard to skin it without a knife or something, no? *coughs and looks innocent* What, Legolas' fall could BREAK something? Now, whatever gave you that idea? *g* Yes, this chappie has lots of Legolas angst, never fear! *wide-eyed* Uhm your weekend sounds interesting, to say the least. Very interesting, yes...   
**NaughtyNat** - LOL, Pooh Bear waiting for him? Nah, somehow I have the feeling it wouldn't have been very threatening, or what do you think? Great you liked that little scene, at that moment I was really missing the twins and just had to put them in somehow, and a flashback was the only way I could think of. And I am thinking about putting Elladan, Elrohir and Glorfindel in the next story, especially Glorfindel. I promised Cathy and wouldn't want to break that promise, she might kill me. She really might. I just have to think of a reason for them being where they would be.... I'll think of something, I guess. I still haven't got TTT DVD, but I will tomorrow! Yay Nili, I can hardly wait - even though I downloaded it ages ago...  
**Aron** - You know, the more I think about it, the more I really think that Legolas is C-3PO in disguise! I mean, look at R2-D2! He's short, just like Gimli! That's the ultimate proof! *g* Yes, an invisibility cloak would be quite useful sometimes, I agree... I have to admit I never sa it that way ... Aragorn should actually THANK me for putting him into that cave with only a bear, you're right! Poor Aragorn indeed, he's not having a very good time at the moment... Yup, Geran IS a little bit stupid, isn't he? I mean, touching Legolas' bow and expecting to live? Idiot man... LOL, 'reality complete with dwarves', indeed! And I have to admit that your suggestion of hiding in the darkest, deepest cavern there is in the Lonely Mountain sounds very good, and sensible! I would do that if I were you, Dáin!   
**TigerLily713 - **Hmm, why do I keep hurting them ... because I'm evil and twisted and _enjoy_ doing it? And because that's what you people want to read? Admit it! Thanks for all your reviews!  
**Alisha B** - I'm sure it was FF.net's fault, it is ALWAYS FF.net's fault. It's a law of nature, that's what it is. And you're right, wolfs and wargs and orcs and things like that _are_ a little bit overdone, even though I still have that idea for the cave troll that ... but that's another story. *g* I agree, btw. A sloth would have finished him off, he should be grateful it was only a brown bear! YOUR elf list sounds very interesting indeed! Well, mine is changing quite a lot too, but right now there are Elladan/Elrohir (they get one number), Glorfindel, Fëanor and Elrond. Legolas just can't compete with them, in my opinion... *g* You know, I might still clone Celylith, since he seems to have become quite popular with the readers, which is understandable, since he's adorable. *huggles weakly resisting elven warrior* I hope this is soon enough so you can read it before you go back, I hope you still have fun in your first week! And I was only two days late, much better than YOU! *g*  
**Ellyrianna** - And how would Rashwe have got out of the camp and into the cave? That would have been no small feat even for a demon-horse like Rashwe... *g* *blushes* Well, what can I say ... thank you? Thanks a lot for all your very nice compliments! And ... *grabs unconscious ranger* ... get your own! He's mine, my own, my preciousssss! You can't have him! I need him to lie under that bear and look pitiful - he's very good at that... *g* Your threat is very scary indeed, so here's the update! Thanks a lot for the review!  
**Nikara** - Thanks a lot, I do feel better. My friend Ibuprofen made everything a lot easier, too. *g* Somehow it just happened, to be honest I never intended to have Legolas jump off that cliff. He was just too slow at climbing down, and I got impatient... *shrugs* You know the rest. LOL, you might be right there! I think I can start the sequel about ten years after this one, that should be the time they're allowed out on their own again!  
  
***eats as much Mint Sauce, Shepherd's Pie and Bacon Sandwiches as she can* Must - eat - before - I - leave... *g* Uhm, that was a bit off-subject, I guess. Thanks a lot for all your wonderful reviews! You know I do love them, right?**  
  
  



	23. Together We Stand

**Disclaimer:** For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.  
  
  
**A/N:  
  
Okay, okay, so it was plus a day. I'm sorry, I really am. Life's real hectic at the moment, with family and everything. I'm sure you understand that, right? *readers give her fake, bright smiles and start looking for chainsaws, pointy and heavy objects, pet wargs/balrogs etc.* You guys are not the most understanding lot, huh? *gulps*  
  
Alright, but the chapter IS here, so everybody calm down. And I agree with you: Geran's made a bigger mistake than he realises by shooting our dear elven prince with his own bow. Legolas is not really happy about that, no... But the poor little elf and his equally poor little ranger friend won't find out about Celylith's not-death for a few more chapters yet, I think it will be in chapter 25, so only two more to go and we can have a merry little reunion. *g*   
And for all of you who wondered: This story will be 26 chapters long, or at least I try to make it 26 since 27 is not nearly as nice a number (don't tell me, I'm mad). Those of you who have read my previous story will know that that means that the next few chapters will be longer than usual since I try to put about twice the amount of things into them - which is probably not really something you disapprove of... *smiles*  
  
There is a Sindarin curse in this which took me ages to come up with and construct, but Eva27 wanted to actually hear an Elvish curse (see, you do get rewards if you review! *g*), so here you go. I'm sorry if it doesn't sound very fearsome, but Sindarin isn't a very good language to curse in, even though Quenya is even worse.  
  
  
Very well, here's the next chapter, whose main part is a long, long H/C scene, something which both Aragorn and Legolas deserve, really. *nods vigorously* They do. Other than that, we also have more of Celylith and his new best friend, Dofur the healer (*snickers*), and King Dáin and the others. *tries to huggle her dwarves but finds that they have run off in annoyance* Here we go again. *sighs* They always do that.  
  
Enjoy and review, please!  
  
  
  
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Chapter 23  
  
  
For a while, Legolas merely sat on the jumbled stones, darkness closing in on him on all sides. Night was falling, and in more sense than one; to him it seemed that all the light there was in the world had just disappeared, had been swallowed in an endless, bottomless chasm of despair.  
  
'It cannot be, it cannot be, it cannot be…' he repeated endlessly, the words sounding hollow and false even to himself.   
  
There was no sound, no sign that Aragorn was still alive. His friend had been crushed by the rocks, or died of his injuries, he was dead, he was gone…  
  
A small, stubborn thought flickered through his mind. Who said Aragorn was dead? He hadn't seen his body, and as long as he hadn't made sure of it with his own eyes, the young ranger was still alive, for he had no proof indicating otherwise.  
  
Legolas shook his head and slowly got to his feet, freeing himself of the despair that was threatening to pull him into its dark embrace once again. Aragorn was still alive, and to that thought he would hold until he had seen his body.   
  
He briefly placed his good hand against the stone wall and took a deep breath.  
"Hold on, _mellonamin_," he whispered softly, hoping with all his heart that Aragorn was there somewhere on the other side, waiting for him. "I am going to look for a way to get to you. I will be back, I promise."  
  
The fair haired elf ran his hand through his hair and carefully climbed off the heap of stones. He leaned against a huge rock, trying to force his aching brain to think. He was at the Lonely Mountain, and the Lonely Mountain had belonged to the dwarves for ages. So that meant that the tunnel the men had pushed his friend into had probably been made by dwarves, especially if one considered the fact that its entrance had been barely higher than a grown man.  
  
'What does that tell me?' he asked himself tiredly. The answer came promptly: That dwarves were smaller than men.  
  
He barely held back an erratic giggle. The reasonable part of him was noting calmly that he was beginning to lose it now, but he ignored it and concentrated on the problem at hand. If this had been a dwarf mine once, or a tunnel, or even a cave, then there had to be other, smaller shaft to let in light and fresh air. Presumably even dwarves needed that.  
  
Legolas smiled grimly, beginning to slowly make his way up the path, carefully climbing up the mountainside. If there was something like a ventilation shaft, he would find it, he vowed silently, and if it was too small to allow him access, he would keep looking until he found one he could use. There was no way he would leave his friend in a tunnel far away from the heavens; the least he could do was try and get out his body to bring it to Rivendell, to his family. That thought brought a new wave of pain and grief in its wake, but he refused to let if pull him down again. He would find Aragorn, even if that was the last thing he ever did.  
  
The search was slow, exhausting and rather painful, because every step he took jarred his arm and shoulder, the pain of which causing him to wince and jerk slightly, which in turn aggravated his back, his ribs, his head…  
  
Just when he was sure that he felt like throwing himself onto the ground in a childish fit of rage if he didn't find something soon, he saw something to his right, a dark opening in the rock face, partly concealed by some shrubbery. It wasn't too big, perhaps three feet high or a little more, but it was enough for him to crawl through – or at least he hoped so. Under normal circumstances it would have been more than enough, but he had accepted long ago that these weren't normal circumstances.  
  
As quickly as he could he made his way over to the opening and kneeled down in front of it, peering inside with keen eyes. It was a dark, smooth-floored tunnel that led on into the darkness, disappearing round a rough stone corner after a few yards and therefore preventing him from surveying the rest of it.   
  
Legolas sat back on his haunches, wrinkling his brow. He didn't want to go in there, he didn't even know if it would lead him to his friend! It was dark, far too dark for his liking, and it was so narrow – he didn't even want to think what his back would say to that…   
  
The elven prince forcefully pushed down these dark feelings and fears and took a deep breath. _Of course_ he would go in there, there was the chance that this tunnel might lead him to his human friend, and that alone was reason enough. He slowly began to crawl forward, grinning grimly when he imagined what he must look like, cut, bruised, bloodied and with one arm bound tightly to his chest, the broken stub of the arrow still protruding from his shoulder.   
  
While he was crawling through the narrow space and tried to convince himself that the walls were not closing in on him, he amused himself with imagining what his father would say if he could see him now.   
  
After giving the matter considerable thought, he decided that he would start with giving him his special Wait-till-we-are-alone-my-son-look. Then he would glare at him all the time it took Hithrawyn to tend his wounds, and after that he would lecture him for a few days about his duties and responsibilities and behaviour befitting his status. And if he had made it through that without slipping into a catatonic state, his father and king would put him in charge of a guard that coincidently consisted of extremely old, experienced captains that would watch him like a dragon its hoard, and that equally coincidently was assigned to a remote, absolutely safe part of their realm.  
  
Legolas smiled slightly, moving forward as swiftly as he could and trying to ignore the pain that was spiking yet again. Right now he would be very happy about a chance to endure his father's wrath; he would even be happy if he threw him into the dungeons as he had so often threatened if it meant that he would first be home, in his bed, looking at his father's stern face that yet didn't hide the concern and fear for his well-being.  
  
The thought of his home cheered him up a little, and with renewed resolve he doggedly crawled on. The tunnel, he reasoned, had probably not been an air vent but a second exit in case of emergencies when this mine had been still in use, in case that a part of the mine collapsed or something similar. The elf shook his head unwillingly, noting that the light a few yards in front of him changed slightly. He didn't know much about mining, and even now he didn't regret that in the slightest. Elves were craftsmen and metal smiths, yes, but they didn't delve into the earth in search for metals, gems and stone themselves, and he had no intention whatsoever to ever learn more about these things.  
  
When he had covered a few more metres, he sensed a drop just in front of him and stopped in mid-motion. From his position about three feet above the ground he could see the dim blackness of the main tunnel, and he slowly climbed down from where his tunnel branched off the main one to stand on the surprisingly smooth floor of the tunnel, a mixed feeling of triumph and dread sweeping through him.  
  
Legolas just looked about him, trying to decide whether he should go right or left, when his keen senses detected something that made him freeze in his tracks: A strange, strong smell that filled the air, a wild smell he automatically associated with danger. It took the elf about a second to identify it, and when he did it caused his feelings of dread to multiply tenfold.  
  
"Bear," Legolas muttered horrified, reaching automatically for his daggers and cursing when his hand met only air.  
  
The smell was stronger to the right, up the path that led deeper into the mountain, and Legolas finally understood what Geran had meant when he had said that Aragorn would die no matter what. Elbereth, there was a bear in here with its nest deep up into the mountain to his right, and these men had put his friend in here knowing full well that it would probably be roused from its sleep by the noise of falling stones…_  
  
"Nan naith Angband!"_ Legolas swore angrily and turned to the left, hurrying down the corridor into the direction of the cave entrance. Valar, he ranted inwardly, nearly overcome with fear for his friend, what was wrong with this man, with Geran? How insane and sick had one to be to put someone else into a cave with a _bear_?  
  
Before he could find an answer to that rather rhetorical question, he entered a large room, roughly circular in shape. It was still far darker than anything he would call comfortable, but his elven eyes allowed him to see the heap of stone that had been the cave entrance a few hours ago. The ground wasn't as smooth as the tunnels', and Legolas mused inwardly that it had probably a natural cave once that had been expanded by the dwarves in their search for precious metals and stones.  
  
While he was still pondering this, his eyes that had been frantically wandering over the stone covered ground came to rest on what looked on first glance like yet another large, furry rock. His eyes were already moving on when he realised that there was something wrong with that statement, and it took him another ten seconds to understand what it was: Rocks were not furry, not even rocks in a dwarven mine.  
  
Only a second later the fair haired elf rushed forward, coming to a stop a few feet from the furry rock that turned out to be a rather big, rather dead brown bear. Legolas stared at the animal, his tired brain trying to work out what had killed it, when his gaze fell on a dark, blood covered piece of wood that protruded from the beast's bulky body. He took another step forward, silver-blue eyes narrowing slightly. Until the bear had stabbed itself in the back, there was only one possible explanation, and that was…  
  
His eyes wandered over the body of the bear, and he felt how a dark, icy hand reached into his chest and crushed his heart in a steely grasp when he saw a pale, bloody hand that was almost entirely covered by the bear's large body.  
  
"Aragorn!" he gasped, falling to his knees next to the bear with a sharp, dull thud that made his body scream in pain and started to push the animal aside.  
  
It took him quite some time to move the heavy, bulky body of the bear even a few inches, but the minute movement encouraged him and gave him new strength, and so he finally managed the drag the dead animal to the side, dreading what he would see.  
  
Legolas took a deep, hissing breath when Aragorn's prone body was revealed and winced openly when that movement send a sharp, stabbing pain through his ribcage. His human friend was … a mess, Legolas admitted stunned and reached out with his hand, but let it hover a few inches above his bloody chest, suddenly too afraid to touch him. He didn't want to find out that he was dead, didn't want to receive proof that he had been taken from him as well, but after what seemed an eternity, he slowly reached out and placed his hand lightly on his friend's throat.  
  
For a second, he could feel nothing, but he refused to give up and pressed his hand harder against Aragorn's neck, pleading with Ilúvatar and each and every Vala to spare the young ranger's life. He felt almost faint with relief when his shaking fingers found a heartbeat after a moment, and a rather strong one at that. Legolas pressed his hand against the side of the human's bruised face and gave a short, fervent prayer of thanks, knowing full well that he was grinning from ear to ear and probably looking like a lunatic.  
  
The fair haired prince resisted the urge to sing with joy and moved closer to the ranger, trying to assess his injuries. The man seemed to have trouble drawing breath, and his breathing was so soft and yet laboured that the elf could hardly hear it. Now that the bear was removed, it appeared to become easier for him, but Legolas still placed his hand lightly on the man's chest, waiting for a couple of minutes until he was sure that his friend wouldn't suddenly stop breathing altogether.   
  
He began to move his hand down the human's ribcage, feeling for broken bones and trying to visually ascertain any new injuries, but shook his head in frustration after a few seconds. There was simply too much blood to find out what new wounds Aragorn had sustained, but Legolas hoped that it was the bear's, or at least part of it. The entire body of the young man seemed to be drenched in the rust coloured liquid, but Legolas knew that a human couldn't have lost so much blood and lived, so parts of it had to belong to the bear.  
  
That was a rather sound reasoning, but in his heart the elven prince wasn't very convinced, his mind spinning with worry and fear. He tried to make out the man's features in the near darkness of the cave, and had to forcefully calm himself when he saw his tightly closed eyes.   
  
He would never get used to it, Legolas decided with a small shiver; every time he saw his human friend asleep he had to remind himself that it was not a bad sign that he was sleeping with his eyes closed. In the back of his head he had always known that the younger races slept with closed eyes, but when he had first met Aragorn, he had spent the first few nights shaking the ranger awake when he had seen his closed eyelids. It had been an instinctive reaction on Legolas' part to make sure that the man was alright, but for the three or four days it had taken the elf to get used to a companion who slept with his eyes closed and was not grievously injured or exhausted Aragorn had been a very grumpy, sleepy ranger indeed.  
  
'It doesn't mean anything,' he told himself firmly, forcing himself to push down the overwhelming worry he felt, 'He will be fine, he will be just fine…'  
  
He quickly pondered how he could get Aragorn out of this cave, and finally he resented himself to the fact that he couldn't carry the man through the tunnels in the condition he was in at the moment. Bringing him out of here now was not that good an idea anyway, he decided as an afterthought, night had fallen some time ago and it would be too cold for the ranger, especially considering his injuries.  
  
Legolas slowly stood to his feet, amazed how much better he already felt, knowing that his friend was alive. He looked about him, spying some more splintered wood from the struts that had supported the entrance of the tunnel, and there were some long, dead branches lying on the ground as well, either blown in by strong winds or dragged in by the bear for nesting material.   
  
He carefully moved around the room, collecting all the wood he could get and piling it up some distance away from Aragorn and the body of the bear. He returned to his friend's side and kneeled down again, quickly searching the man's clothes. Even though he was wearing a normal coat and not his leather overcoat – something for which Legolas was rather thankful now, because Aragorn would complain for ages if he had ruined it as he had ruined this coat – there were a lot of pockets on his shirt and breeches, and if he was lucky, his friend had kept some more or less useful things in one of them for once…  
  
"There we are," the elven prince mumbled softly and pulled out a two small flints from one pocket, vowing inwardly never again to tease the young ranger about his habit of keeping at least two sets of everything in his kit. While it could be very funny to see what or how many useless things the young man stowed in his countless pockets, he was very thankful for it now.  
  
The fair haired elf moved over to the wood, musing that Adruran's men had probably been too lazy to thoroughly search all of Aragorn's pockets – or they had given up after the first fifty. Whichever had been the case, he was not complaining, Legolas decided as he stoked the small flame he had kindled to a merrily burning fire.   
  
Sighing softly and suppressing a tired groan of pain as his body protested against the constant movements, he walked back to Aragorn and carefully bent down, using all his remaining strength to lift the unconscious human. The few feet over to the fire proved to be almost too much for him, and he all but collapsed next to the dancing flames.  
  
The elven prince sat back tiredly, gasping for breath. Either Aragorn had got a few stones heavier since he had last lifted him – which he doubted, since that had been merely ten days ago – or he himself had grown weaker than he had been in a few hundred years. Legolas shook his head, enjoying the proximity to the flames. While he hadn't exactly felt cold, even though he had not even had his cloak to warm him, it was very nice to sit next to the fire and let its warmth wash over him.  
  
The light the fire provided also helped him to examine his human friend, and Legolas winced openly when he pulled the slashed, bloodstained shirt to the side that covered Aragorn's torso. Apart from the cuts Hanar had placed there and the blossoming bruises, there were also the reopened burns, contrasting sharply against the rest of the skin in their angrily red colour. There were no signs of infection though, probably because of the salt. The elf clenched his teeth slightly, once again grinning inwardly at the attractive images that flittered through his mind, images of a dead or painfully dying Hanar. They were _very _attractive indeed, and he resolved to put some of them into action. Or all of them, that would be interesting…  
  
The frown on the elf's face deepened when he saw the new slashes that the bear had torn, and Legolas realised that his friend had paid a heavy price for killing the animal. There were slashes all over his chest and arms, and probably on his back as well, and he could even see some on his face. The prince sighed. He didn't even have water to clean the wounds, not to mention athelas or any other healing herbs that Aragorn – and, if he was perfectly honest with himself, he too – needed.  
  
The cuts had stopped bleeding, and only a few had reopened when he had moved the man, and so Legolas decided to try and rouse him. He had to see himself that Aragorn was alright, one could simply never tell with humans. He might merely be sleeping, but then again, he might not, and with the amount of blood that could be seen all over his friend's body, Legolas was not prepared to take the risk.  
  
Clutching his aching arm to his chest once more, the elven prince tried to coax the young ranger back to consciousness.  
  
  
Aragorn groaned inwardly when he heard it again, a sound that seemed to become louder by the second.  
  
Something was disturbing his rest and pulling him back to awareness, a fact that greatly annoyed him. He wasn't quite sure why he was certain that he definitely did not want to return to consciousness, but he was certain, and if he had learned one thing in the past few years, it was that he could rely on such feelings. They were usually right, and he had yet to experience a situation he had enjoyed waking up to when he had felt like this, namely as if he had tried to play catch with a pack of wargs.  
  
After a while his memories returned to him, and he winced inwardly when he remembered the last thing he had seen before he had lost consciousness: The dark ceiling and the dark walls of this cave or mine or whatever it was that seemed to come closer and closer, threatening to suffocate him. The young ranger shuddered. No, he did _not _want to wake up to that!  
  
Besides, there was still the matter of the bear, an annoyingly calm part of his mind piped up, what if there was more than one? What if this had been a she-bear and if there were cubs somewhere in this cave? He knew that young bears often stayed with their mothers for a long time, sometimes until they were several years old, so there might be other bears in here.  
  
Aragorn gave an inward shrug. If there were more bears here, there was nothing he could do about it; in the state he was in at the moment he doubted he would be able to defend himself against even a cub. The noise grew louder again, and the young ranger began to wonder what it could be. Perhaps more bears that were coming closer?   
  
'Well,' a sarcastic voice inside his head noted, 'If that is so, then they speak remarkably good Elvish.'  
  
Aragorn raised a mental eyebrow at that, but the voice was right: There was someone or something talking to him in the grey tongue, and that someone sounded more annoyed and frightened the longer he talked._  
  
"Estel … ú-garo sen …"_  
  
'Do?' he asked himself fuzzily, beginning to pay attention to that voice, 'Do what? I'm not doing anything!"  
  
The voice continued, sounding more distressed by the second, but Aragorn needed quite a long time to understand more of what was being spoken._  
  
"Maetho vôr hen, Aragorn …Echuio! Si nâ farn!"_   
  
The young man wanted to reply that that was exactly what he was trying to do and that he agreed wholeheartedly, but said darkness was still stubbornly refusing to let go of him, like a predator reluctant to part with its prey.  
  
_"Estel,"_ the voice started pleading again, _"A Belain, boe telich dan enni, adan benidhren…"_  
  
The fear in the voice was enough for Aragorn to make him double his efforts to return to consciousness, even though he strongly suspected that he would regret it once he had woken up properly, and he decided that whoever was calling him, it were probably not bears. After a while he finally managed to open his eyes, blinking tiredly at the ceiling … or at least the ceiling should be there, only that it wasn't. He looked at something that looked like a bruised, bloody face that grinned so widely that the dark haired ranger expected it to split in two any second now.  
  
"Estel!" the face exclaimed, the grin impossibly even widening. "Thank the Valar!"  
  
Aragorn simply blinked at the face above him, trying to figure out who or what it was, when the missing piece of information found its place in his mind.  
  
"Legolas!" he croaked, shooting into a sitting position. "You came back! Elbereth, are you alright!?"  
  
A second later his whole body exploded in pain, causing him to double over, both of his arms wrapped around his middle in an attempt to ease the pain that every breath he took brought, but Aragorn ignored it, staring with wide eyes at the elf who simply pressed him back down.  
  
"Hush, Aragorn," the fair haired prince retorted, still grinning widely in relief, "Of course I came back, do you honestly think I would risk returning to your father admitting that I had left you in a cave of all places? Calm yourself, you need to rest; you have lost far too much blood."  
  
A part of the ranger's mind nodded vigorously at that, urging him to listen to his friend's advice, but Aragorn was too confused and worried for the elf to pay it any heed.  
  
"No," he shook his head and struggled upright again, ignoring the pain that shot through every fibre of his being and noting with concern that it was far too easy to shake Legolas' hand off, "Are you alright? What did Geran want with you? Are you injured, did they hurt you?"  
  
Legolas shook his head unwillingly when he saw the stubborn glint in the ranger's eyes, noting with detached interest that the dark cave started to spin softly at that movement. Mentally debating if that was normal, he turned to the young human again who had turned several shades paler and was beginning to sway slightly back and forth.  
  
"No, Estel," he tried to assure the man and smiled at him, "They didn't hurt me." A small, cynical voice in his head began to roar with laughter at that, but Legolas ignored it. He was getting quite good at that, he decided. "They think we are both dead, so they should leave us alone for a while." He saw his friend open his mouth to ask further questions, and Legolas decided that the young ranger had to be in a rather bad shape if he hadn't noticed his arm that he had bound clumsily to his chest. Trying to divert Aragorn's attention, he added, "Tell me again how you do it."  
  
Aragorn frowned in confusion, looking about him and taking in the bear to the side and the crackling fire next to him.  
"Do what?" he asked, his hand sneaking up to his face to finger the stinging cuts there.  
  
Legolas grinned wryly, his cut lip finally splitting open again. He awkwardly reached for the strips of cloth that had once been his cloak, the only things he could use to help his friend.  
"This," he gestured at their surroundings, pressing the man back down once more, and, this time, Aragorn didn't resist. "How do you do it? How do you get us into these situations?"  
  
The young ranger closed his eyes and sighed, shaking his head.  
"Elentári," he murmured, pain beginning to sneak into his voice, "I don't know, I truly don't. I am beginning to suspect that we are cursed."  
  
"You might be correct there," Legolas nodded, carefully helping his friend to remove his shirt. "Where are you hurt, Estel? You have to tell me or I can't help you."  
  
Estel opened his eyes and looked the elf over, for the first time noticing the fact that Legolas' cloak was gone and his arm and shoulder bandaged and tied to his chest. He ignored the elf's question and gave him a dark, questioning look.  
  
"The question should rather be, _mellonamin_," he began seriously, "where you are hurt? What happened, and don't tell me 'Nothing' or _I _will hurt you."  
  
Legolas blinked tiredly, much too exhausted and in too much pain to come up with a witty reply. His ribs ached, his shoulder throbbed and his arm was awash in pain where the bone had penetrated the skin. And there was his back as well, of course…  
  
"I jumped off a cliff," he stated gruffly as he carefully began to clean the cuts and tears on his human friend's body. He had only managed to find some puddles with relatively clean water near the blocked entrance where snow had melted, but that was little more than enough to wet the ragged piece of cloth.  
  
Aragorn stared at the elf as if he had just announced that he had decided to adopt a pair of orcs.  
"You did what? Are you mad? Why? And when? Let me have a look at you, now!"  
  
Legolas shook his head carefully, not intending to cause it to swim even more.  
"If you lie down, I will tell you, human. But only if you lie still and let me tend you first; you are a far better healer than me and I need you as strong and pain-free as possible."   
  
Aragorn nodded reluctantly, secretly rather frightened by the elf's statement. If Legolas admitted to need help for anything, it was usually not a good sign and meant that he was in a lot of pain or generally in a rather bad shape. Studying his friend's battered body with the eyes of a hawk while the elf told his story, he tried to hold as still as possible while the elf cleaned and bound the deep cuts he owed to the bear and Hanar's dagger, only groaning in pain when his friend touched his ribs.  
  
"Are they broken?" Legolas asked concern when the ranger moaned again, drawing back his hand slightly.  
  
"No," Aragorn shook his head through clenched teeth, "I don't think so. Only very badly bruised, and a few might be cracked, I think." He grimaced. "That bear was rather heavy."  
  
The elf nodded solemnly and continued his ministrations, carefully bandaging the reopened burns. He turned his attention to his friend's face where the bear's claws had left two deep slashes that ran parallel from cheekbone to chin.  
  
"Not good," he mumbled under his breath as he examined them, but the ranger's sharp ears caught the muttered words and he turned his head slightly in his elven friend's grasp to look him in the eye.  
  
"What is 'not good', elf?" he asked suspiciously.  
  
"Nothing," Legolas replied a little too quickly, but relented with a sigh when Aragorn raised an eyebrow and gave him the _look_. "I think these slashes are infected, as are those the bear left on your chest and back. We need athelas or some other herbs to stem the infection."  
  
"Well, please correct me if I'm wrong," the other commented dryly, "But we don't have either or the chance to get some in the near future, right?"  
  
"Right," the elven prince nodded and grabbed the human's chin firmly once more, "That is the reason why I am going to clean them as best as I can and you will hold still, understood?"  
  
Aragorn merely grumbled something under his breath that sounded rather like an insult, but let the elf tip his head to the side once more.  
"So they think you're dead," he summed up quietly while Legolas was washing the cuts on his face, "Why did they just leave you there? They couldn't be certain that you were really dead, could they?"  
  
Legolas shifted slightly where he was sitting next to the man, wiping away the last blood that had caked Aragorn's dark hair to the side of his head all around the old cut he had sustained when Adruran's men had captured him in Lake-town. Valar, it felt as if that had been years and years ago.  
  
"Well," he started slowly, inspecting his friend for any more wounds. He knew that he wouldn't be able to stay upright for much longer, but he thought he had tended to most of the man's injuries. The cuts and tears all over his upper body and face had been cleaned as best as possible, and the more serious ones bound, as had the angry red burns. He could do nothing for the massive bruising on his friend's torso, or for his ribs.   
  
Legolas eyed his human friend suspiciously. He was rather sure that infection had already set in, and in his eyes the man was looking a bit too bright-eyed and flushed, even though he seemed to shiver with cold as well, even despite his proximity to the fire. The elven prince sighed inwardly. There was nothing he could do to prevent it anyway, but the thought of watching this infection spread in his friend's already weakened body made his head reel with helplessness and anger.  
  
"Well what, elf?" Aragorn asked, squirming slightly when the elf reached out and placed an ice-cold hand on his forehead. How had Legolas' hands become so cold?  
  
"Well," Legolas repeated, concentrating hard on staying upright now, "They didn't _really _just leave me there." He giggled irrationally. Aragorn did a double-take, carefully grabbed the hand that still lay on his forehead and moved it away, seizing this chance to inconspicuously feel his friend's pulse. Much too fast and weak, he decided with a frown of concern. He looked at Legolas again who had his eyes closed tightly now. Had Legolas Thranduilion, Prince of Mirkwood, proud and fearsome elven warrior, just _giggled_?  
  
Legolas smiled broadly, finding the entire thing impossibly amusing now.  
"They shot me," he told Aragorn with a disapproving sigh. "With one of my own arrows, can you believe that?"  
  
That statement, in connection with the elf's bright eyes and his irrational tone of voice, served to double Aragorn's worry tenfold, and he quickly sat up, ignoring the pain that shot through him at that abrupt motion.  
  
"Shot you??" he exclaimed, unbelievingly. "Alright," he told his friend, unconsciously slipping into what Legolas had called his Mighty-healer-tone of voice, the one that sounded as if he was talking to mentally retarded trolls – or so the elven prince claimed. "Lie down and let me have a look at you, and no arguing."  
  
The fair haired elf was frighteningly compliant when Aragorn gently helped him lie down on his right side, something that made him feel even more anxious. The ranger carefully unfastened the simple bandage that covered the wound and bound his arm to his chest, and sucked in a deep breath when he saw the wooden shaft protrude from the shoulder. He reached out carefully and ran his fingers over the shoulder blade, feeling for the arrowhead and, not surprisingly, finding none. Legolas would have removed the arrow had there been any way for him to do so, he reasoned, resolutely pushing back his hatred for the men who had done this. Such feelings had no place in your heart or mind when you were attempting to heal someone.  
  
Letting one hand linger reassuringly on his friend's good shoulder, he shifted slightly to have a look at his back, and promptly closed his eyes to regain his composure when he surveyed the damage done by Geran's "toy" that was lit by the eerily flickering light of the fire. Seldom had he seen such deep lashes on anyone's back, and he had some first-hand experience in these matters after all. He was hard-pressed to spy a patch of undamaged skin between the elf's neck and waist; every square inch seemed to be ripped open, sometimes so deeply that one could see or nearly see the white bone of a rib, especially at the elf's sides. The few intact bits of skin were bruised a deep purple colour, as was the ribcage. Had Legolas been of any other race than the elven, he would definitely not have survived this.  
  
Aragorn took a deep breath and lightly ran his fingers over his friend's ribs, wincing in sympathy when the elf moaned softly in pain.  
"You have at least four broken ribs, my friend," he told him softly, instantly berating himself for that comment. What a stupid thing had _that _been to say?  
  
"Yes," Legolas nodded sleepily, his former good humour replaced by a bone-deep, overpowering sense of exhaustion and pain. "Yes, I had gathered as much."  
  
He hissed in pain when Aragorn took up his left arm and began to unwrap the bandage.  
"What happened here?" the young man asked, trying to be as gentle as possible.  
  
"I had a rather abrupt encounter with a stone covered cliff base," the elf answered softly, beginning to grin again. A part of him knew that the pain was finally getting the best of him, but he didn't care. Grinning like a maniac was a lot better than to concentrate on the agony in his body anyway. "It had the better arguments and wasn't exactly inclined to a reasonable discussion."  
  
The ranger blinked slowly, deciding not to question his friend's statement – or his sanity, while he was at it. When the piece of cloth came off, he swallowed quickly, wishing for nothing more than for one of his father's sleeping draughts he could give his elven friend – or better yet, for his father himself, who would probably know what to do. Elrond always did.  
  
'Elbereth Gilthoniel,' he sighed inwardly as he took a closer look at the bone that protruded from the pale skin of Legolas' left forearm. This looked bad, very bad, and he needn't be told what the loss or partial loss of one of his arms would mean to his friend.  
  
"Great Manwë, how did you do that?" he asked the elf that had his eyes closed tightly to deal with the pain that even his friend's light touch brought. He continued, reproach in his voice. "You must have bent it backwards at an angle of at least forty-five degrees to produce this impressive result!"  
  
Legolas didn't answer, too concentrated on thinking of something, of anything else that would help him to take his thoughts off the pain in his body. Here it came, he thought tiredly, Aragorn's What-were-you-thinking-stubborn-elf-speech. Sometimes it became apparent that he spent far too much time with Glorfindel and his father.  
  
True enough, Aragorn glowered at the prince while he lightly ran his fingers over the rest of Legolas' arm, trying to determine if anything else had been broken.  
"What were you thinking?" he asked the elf, causing the other to snicker silently. "You really jumped off that cliff? See what happened, stubborn elf! How many times do we have to discuss that…"  
  
"This is hardly a discussion," Legolas grumbled, already on his way into unconsciousness. There was only so much a body could take, elven or not, and his limits had been reached some time ago. "This is … a lecture."  
  
"…that you may be immortal, but that you are not indestructible? You could easily have snapped your neck instead, Legolas!"  
  
Aragorn continued for some time, examining the rest of his friend's body, and Legolas found that the man's scolding voice was strangely comforting. He sounded very much like one of their fathers now, he decided with a small smile, allowing himself to drift off slightly; he sounded just like them when they dragged themselves back to their respective homes half-dead once more…  
  
"…alright? Legolas? Legolas, are you listening to me?"  
  
The young man's voice ripped through the peace the prince had allowed to envelop him, and he opened his eyes he hadn't even realised he had closed.  
"Of course I am listening to you," the fair haired elf mumbled, obviously having no idea what the other was talking about.  
  
Aragorn sighed in mock exasperation as he steeled himself for what was to come. He pushed all his fear, concern and anxiety to the back of his mind and stated in a calm, level voice,  
  
"I will have to set your arm." He looked at his friend, bright eyes huge and dark in his face. "It will hurt, Legolas. A lot. It is a very bad break, I will not lie to you, but if I do it now and lose no more time, it will most likely heal."  
  
The elf only nodded, closing his eyes once more. He was already in so much pain that he thought it highly unlikely to become much worse.  
"Do as you must. I trust you, Estel, just as I have trusted your father so many times."  
  
Estel smiled at him, but a tiny, quickly disguised shadow of fear flickered across his face, almost lost in the dancing, wild shadows the flames cast on his features. Ilúvatar, he wasn't his father, and he hadn't half the skill the wise elf did in the healing arts. What if he did it wrong, what if Legolas' arm didn't knit properly because of him? He would never be able to look him in the eye again, never, knowing that he had taken from him the ability to exercise the one great skill the One had gifted him with…  
  
He shook his head quickly and banished these thoughts from his mind, placing one of his hands on the elf's elbow and one on his wrist.  
"Ready?"  
  
Legolas opened one eye and gave him a wry, dark look, looking remarkably like his father at this moment.  
"Just do it, human. It can hardly hurt any worse than it does now."  
  
Aragorn only gave him a small, sad smile and braced his body against his friend's side, prepared to stop him from hurting himself further or interrupting him at a crucial point. Without any further ado he tightened his hold on the elf's arm and began to pull and stretch it, trying to force the bone back under the skin.  
  
All of Legolas' resolve not to scream or to show how much it hurt dissolved like snow in the sun when hot, burning agony stabbed through his arm. Elbereth, Aragorn wasn't trying to set the bone, he was trying to wrench it out completely!  
  
He instinctively tried to escape the pain, not thinking anymore, not caring if he would never be able to use the arm again, but Aragorn's hands held him down, still stretching the bone. Legolas could actually feel the splintered pieces of the bone slide back beneath the skin, and that was the moment when his brain decided that this was definitely enough now.  
  
The darkness he had been fighting off for the past few hours grew until it swallowed him whole, and the last thing he perceived before he lost himself in it was a strange, pain-filled scream that echoed through the cavern, closely followed by the stunned realisation that it must have been his.  
  
  
  
  
In the early hours of the night Dáin entered the small cave the elf was residing in at the moment, and when his eyes fixed on the scene that greeted him, he felt very glad indeed that he was already wearing his armour. Behind him he could almost see the amused grins his two companions, Ori and Nori, hid as soon as they had spread on their faces.  
  
The dwarven king suppressed a tired sigh. He hadn't expected reasonable behaviour from an elf, but he had thought that Dofur had a bit more sense. Right now, however, it appeared that both, the elf and his master healer, had completely lost their minds, at least judging by the sight in front of him.  
  
The elf was standing in front of his bed, wearing nothing but a pair of breeches, the enormous bandage that wound round his torso and the darkest expression Dáin had ever seen on anyone's face, elf or not. "Standing", the dwarven king corrected himself thoughtfully, was stretching it a bit though, for he was swaying slightly back and forth, reminding him of the flickering flame of a lantern deep under the mountain.   
  
The tall being was obviously trying to get to the rest of his things that, including his weapons, had been piled up on a small table some feet away from the bed, but there was a small but obviously fiercely determined obstacle in his way: Dofur, who glared at his much taller patient so grimly that it would even have impressed a dragon.  
  
Obviously it did not impress the elf, Dáin admitted tiredly.  
  
The silver haired being's already dark look darkened even further, and he gripped a bedpost with his right hand, trembling slightly.  
"I do not see your point, Master Dwarf," he announced in a voice that could only be described as icy. "I am standing, am I not?"  
  
Dofur folded his arms across his chest and gave a low, annoyed growl.  
"Standing does not equal fit to ride, Master Elf," he countered, showing no sign that he intended to back down in face of the elf's wrath. "Look at yourself! You are not strong enough to stand unaided!"  
  
"That does not matter," Celylith stated haughtily, taking a careful step forwards. "Standing was not part of our agreement. To declare me fit to stay on a horse, and please note 'stay on a horse', not 'ride a horse', will suffice completely."   
  
"And why," the healer asked, eyes glinting dangerously, "do you think that I will do that?"  
  
Celylith gave the being that stood hardly taller than his waist a bright, charming smile.  
"Because I will leave this cave anyway, whether you give me the permission or not, Master Dofur."   
  
He took a quick, whereas slightly wobbly step forward, narrowly avoided falling flat on his face and managed to get close enough to the pile to grab his shirt, which had been cleaned but not mended so that there still was a ragged hole in the back where the arrow had hit him.  
  
The dwarven healer sidestepped quickly, putting himself between the rest of the elf's kit and the elf himself.  
"We will see about that, Lord Celylith. You are my patient and therefore my responsibility at the moment, and I will not allow you to get yourself killed on a fool's errand!"  
  
The silver haired elf who had just slowly and painstakingly pulled his shirt over his head seemed to freeze for a few moments, and slowly turned around to look the small dwarf in the eye. He sat down heavily onto the bed, raw emotion flickering over his face. Dáin who had just wanted to make his presence known to the two of them closed his mouth again, suddenly wanting to know what the elf would say.  
  
Celylith looked solemnly at the smaller being, all haughtiness and bravado stripped away.  
  
"It is not a fool's errand, Master Dwarf," he began slowly, eyes dark and close to despair. "It mustn't be. They are my friends, both of them, and Legolas is my prince." He raised his head and looked Dofur straight in the eye. "I do not expect you to understand me or my kind, but I know that you understand this. Prince Legolas is my liege's son, my responsibility as long as he travels in my company, as much as he sometimes likes to ignore that. I swore King Thranduil that I would protect him and the ranger, and I have failed! I could not protect him, I was not there when he needed me. I have broken my oath. And no-one, and I mean no-one, not you, your healers or your king, will stop me from coming to his aid. And," he stopped shortly and lowered his eyes again, "and if I have truly failed and he and Strider are dead, then I will go and bring their bodies back to Mirkwood so their families can mourn them according to our customs."  
  
He fell silent and ran a slightly shaking hand through his silver hair.  
  
"And I have some things to discuss with the men who did this," he added after a moment. "I will not let them get away with this just like that; they will pay for whatever they have done to the ranger and my prince."  
  
He looked up and gave the dwarf another long look.  
"Surely you do understand that."  
  
Dofur studied the elven warrior in front of him for a long while, before he finally gave a sharp jerk of his head.  
"Alright, Master Elf," he nodded. "Alright. I hereby declare you fit to stay on a horse, but please note that I said 'stay on a horse', not 'accompany our warriors'. I understand your motives and your need for revenge, but you are not strong enough to fight yet."  
  
Celylith looked up somewhat surprised and got to his feet, slowly making his way over to the small pile on the table.  
"Elves heal quickly, Master Dofur. You would be surprised."  
  
"I very much doubt that, elf," Dofur grumbled under his breath, and Dáin decided to intervene before the two of them could start insulting each other again.  
  
"Greetings, Lord Celylith, Dofur," he announced loudly and took a step forward, followed by Nori and Ori.  
  
Dofur gave a small bow while the elf nodded his head, not stopping to awkwardly clothe and rearm himself.  
  
"Lord Dáin," Celylith said, deciding against securing his quiver on his back which would probably cause him to faint again - and he had done enough of that in his opinion, especially in front of dwarves. He slowly reached for his weaponbelt and frowned when his eyes wandered it. His sword was still there, as were his two smaller knives, but his long hunting knife was gone. The elf frowned in confusion, wincing with the pain that minute movement brought, but stopped himself from asking the dwarf king just in time when he realised that the dwarf might misunderstand his question and take it as an accusation.  
  
Dáin nodded at the elf.  
"You might be interested to hear that our scouts have returned. They have found the humans' camp."  
  
Celylith's head shot up, a quickly masked grimace flittering about his scratched and bruised face as pain shot through his skull at that.  
"They have?"  
  
"They have," Ori confirmed at the nod of his king. "My men found their encampment a few hours ago. It appears that you and Strider were right: There were approximately twelve men that were guarded in a secluded area of the camp – that were probably the Lake-men you talked about. The ones who took your companions have apparently captured them as well. They also saw a trail leading to the foothills of the mountain, probably to the treasure. They would have investigated but there were guards at the entrance to the tunnel."  
  
Celylith's eyes were glued to the dwarf's face, not caring in the least if the dwarves had found the Lake-men, treasure or an orc with the head of a goat.  
"What about…"  
  
Ori quickly shook his head.  
"There was no sign of the prince or Estel, I am sorry," he admitted gruffly. "But then again, they didn't see their bodies either."  
  
Celylith wasn't sure if he should glare at the smaller being or feel relieved byhis words.  
"I see."  
  
Dáin looked at him, a frown creasing his face.  
"They might very well be alive, Master Elf," he said, fervently wishing it to be so. He had no desire to see the Elvenking ever again, something that would not be preventible if his son got killed in his, Dáin's, realm. Besides, Thranduil would be in an even worse mood than the last time he had seen him, and that was something that was to be avoided at all cost.  
  
Celylith stood slowly to his feet, swaying only slightly.  
"They are alive, Lord Dáin, and to that thought I will hold until I am proven otherwise. Are your men ready to depart?"  
  
The dwarven king nodded, one of his hands tightening on the handle of his double-edged battle axe.  
"They stand at the ready at the Front Gates; we can be gone in half an hour. It should take us about three to four hours to reach the spot where we can leave the ponies, and another twenty minutes to reach the camp itself. We should get there at sunrise." He looked from the elf to his master healer, a small smile hidden behind his long bushy beard. "Have you come to an agreement?"  
  
Celylith looked at Dofur and then at Dáin, inclining his head slightly.  
"I believe we have, your Majesty. I am ready to leave when you are."  
  
Dáin raised his chin and gave the elf a dark look, raising an eyebrow so that it disappeared under the rim of his beautifully decorated helmet.  
"Dwarves are always ready, Lord Celylith. Shall we?"  
  
The elf raised a dark silver eyebrow in return, obviously biting back a scathing reply, and nodded, brushing past the dwarves and out of the cave, his face set in a mask of concentration in his attempt not to stumble or collapse completely.  
  
Dáin gave a small nod, but the older dwarf had already bustled off to supervise the packing of the bags which the younger healers who would accompany the warriors would take with them. He exited the small room, followed by his advisors, inwardly praying that they would get there in time and find Strider and Prince Legolas alive, and be it only so that he got rid of these infuriating elves as soon as possible.  
  
  
  
  
Legolas awoke slowly, much to his discontent. He didn't want to leave the wonderful, numbing darkness behind, knowing full well that the pain he could already feel in his body would get much worse once he was fully awake. But his body didn't obey the commands his brain sent it – once again, the elf thought grumpily. He really had to do something about that, he mused, giving up the fight to stay asleep as he quickly began to near consciousness, it was not tolerable for an elven warrior to have his body ignore his mind.  
  
While he was still pondering this, he felt how a hand was pressed against the side of his face, while another was placed lightly on his forehead.  
"Legolas? Legolas, are you awake?"  
  
"No," the elf countered rather gruffly, stubbornly keeping his eyes closed. "No, I'm not. I am asleep and not talking to you."  
  
"Oh," Aragorn's smiling voice said, "That's alright then."  
  
The hands were slowly withdrawn, and almost against his will Legolas' eyes opened to fix reluctantly on his human friend's slightly flushed face. The ranger looked down on him and smiled.  
"Welcome back to our home away from home."  
  
The elf grimaced, contemplating if he shouldn't simply go back to sleep.  
"Wonderful."  
  
Aragorn shrugged slightly, clearly suppressing a shudder that raced through his body when he thought of their surroundings.  
"With the fire it's almost bearable." He narrowed his eyes and reached for his friend's right wrist, feeling his pulse. "I know that it's a stupid question, but how do you feel?"  
  
Legolas thought about it for a second. He definitely felt better than when he had lost consciousness, but since he had been in agony then, that wasn't too hard. The sharp, stabbing pain in his arm had been replaced with a dull throbbing, and he could see that Aragorn had removed the arrow and bound his arm and shoulder tightly to his chest once more. He was lying on his right side, therefore aggravating his broken ribs, but that was better than aggravating his back which had been bound as well. Something that the elf identified after a while as Aragorn's cloak was draped over him, and the fire at his back emitted a soothing warmth.  
  
All in all, he felt almost well again, apart from the dark, ever-present pain in the back of his mind that reminded him just how much he had lost in the past two days.  
  
"Better," he said quietly, swallowing quickly. "Much better. Thank you, my friend."  
  
"I only returned the favour," Aragorn smiled. Knowing what occupied the elf's mind right now, but what he would never ask, he added, "I have set your arm, and I think I did it correctly. I will rest much easier though when I can have a look it it somewhere where it's light and I have the proper herbs at hand. It is too early to tell, but I think it will be fine, in time, if you keep it still and don't ruin my handiwork." His smile widened a little. "You will definitely live to face your father's wrath."  
  
Legolas groaned, carefully draping his right arm over his eyes, but even the thought of his father did nothing to diminish the relief that had swept through him at Aragorn's words.  
"My father. Dear Elbereth, and I had thought it had got as bad as it possibly could."  
  
Aragorn turned serious again.  
"Do you think he will send a delegation to Dale?"  
  
"No," Legolas shook his head, "No I don't think so. I told him in my letter that we would be gone for some time, and the weather is not conducive to travel. In the summer he might, but I do not think that he will now, not right now anyway. It's too early yet."  
  
"That's what I thought," the young ranger mumbled thoughtfully. His mind on the date, his eyes grew suddenly wide. "Tomorrow is Winter Solstice and I haven't written _ada _or the twins!"  
  
The elven prince blinked up at his friend, wondering if he had missed a wound to the man's head.  
"We are in the middle of _Rhîw_, Aragorn," he began carefully, reaching up with his right hand, trying to place it on the ranger's forehead. Could the infection have spread so quickly? "_Yestarë _isn't for more than hundred days!"  
  
Aragorn looked at him in confusion for a moment before he began to grin.  
"Yes, you are right, _mellonamin_, but in Rivendell we celebrate it twice, even though the big feast is on the real _Yestarë_. My family and I celebrate one at the end of December, that's when my human forefathers did it. My father always wanted me to remember the customs of Men, as far as he knows them himself, that is."  
  
"Oh," Legolas said slowly and rather relieved. For a moment he had really feared for his friend's mental fitness. "I didn't know that. That Men celebrated it now, I mean." He slowly turned his head and looked the man in the eye, a mocking light shining in the silver-blue depths. "And I am appalled! You had so much time to compose a small letter!"  
  
Aragorn raised a dark eyebrow at that, and Legolas continued.  
  
"I mean, I am sure that Adruran and his men would have given you parchment and ink had you only asked for it! I am certain that you had at least half an hour there, and here in this cave even longer! Your father will be so angry that you didn't write, with nothing but kidnappings, cave-ins and wild animals to occupy your time…"  
  
"Alright! Alright!" Aragorn quickly interrupted him, eyes twinkling as well now. "I understand. But that brings us back to the problem at hand, I'm afraid."  
  
"It does indeed," Legolas nodded, serious now. "Just before they let me go, Hanar said that they were bringing the treasure out of the mountain right now. They are using the Lake-men for it, apparently, but Adruran's men seem to be helping as well."  
  
"So they will be finished soon. It can't take them much longer than a day, not if they want to leave again soon and want to take as much as they can with them. Their horses cannot carry very much in addition to their riders, and I didn't see more than ten pack animals in their camp."  
  
The elf nodded again at his friend's words.  
"And when they don't need them anymore, I think we know what they will do with them."  
  
Aragorn's face darkened.  
"We do indeed." He moved closer to his friend, who was trying to push himself into a sitting position, and reached out to help him, grimacing when his own wounds protested. "But while you were asleep, I have been thinking."  
  
Legolas groaned in mock terror.  
"And here I thought we might get out of this alive."  
  
"You are terribly funny right now, did you know that?" the ranger asked somewhat exasperatedly, helping his friend to sit up. He wasn't really annoyed with the elf, but his deep cuts and bruises hurt, as did his cracked ribs and the burns, and he was feeling much too hot for comfort.  
  
The elven prince seemed to notice that, since he reached out with his good hand and placed it on Aragorn's shoulder in an apologetic gesture.  
"I am sorry, Estel. We are both not well, forgive me. To what conclusion have you come?"  
  
Aragorn looked at the fair haired elf seriously, a steely glint in his silver eyes.  
"That two sides can play their games, my friend. And that it is time that we raise the stakes a little."  
  
Legolas looked back at his human friend, drawing the cloak closer around his cut shoulders. He thought of Celylith's merry face, of all the things they had seen and done together, and how he had looked when he had last seen him, lying broken at the foot of a large boulder, his blood staining the snow around him.  
  
He shortly closed his eyes, pushing back the tears that wanted to escape from his tightly closed eyes as the pain almost became too much.  
  
"Indeed it is, _mellonamin_," he nodded, raising his head again, deadly determination on his face. "Indeed it is."  
  
  
  
  
  
**TBC...  
  
  
  
  
  
** _mellonamin - my friend  
Nan naith Angband! - (Damn it) Into the pits of Anband!  
Ú-garo sen - Do not do this  
Maetho vôr hen, Aragorn ... Echuio! Si nâ farn! - Fight this darkness, Aragorn ... Awake! It is enough now!  
A Belain, boe telich dan enni, adan benidhren - O Valar, you have to come back to me, reckless human  
ada - father (daddy)  
Rhîw - 'Winter', the time between the (modern) 21th of November and the 31th of January   
Yestarë_ - _'First-day', the first day of the year. The equivalent of Men's Winter Solstice (celebrated on __the __(modern) 22nd of December), according to the Reckoning of Rivendell it fell on the (modern) 7th of April_  
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_**Well, well, well, things** **are definitely about to become very interesting! *evil grin* So, we have lots of questions that need answering: Will the dwarves get there in time? What is Aragorn's plan? Will they manage to carry it out without collapsing due to their various injuries? Why didn't Nili write a real cliffy? Is that a bad sign? A very bad sign? A very, very bad sign? *g* As always I try to answer all these questions in the next post, which should be here ... hmm, on Thursday? I think that's quite realistic, and I promise to get it ready till then if I get many nice reviews. So: Review? Please??  
  
  
  
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_**Additional A/N:  
  
Coreinha** - *g* I guess 'Legolas has owies' is a certain kind of understatement... And Celylith threatening to eat a few more humans - I don't know? I'm not sure yet where he will be at the end, so I gues that's a careful no. I don't think he would have time for that kind of thing either if he were there, so...   
**TrinityTheSheDevil** - I'm glad you liked the strangling-the-dwarf-with-his-own-beard-bit, I somehow got that really funny mental picture - don't ask me why... *g* *grabs her bow before she can kill Geran for good* Bad! Bad Trinity! How many times have I told you that you must-not-kill-my-characters!? No! I don't CARE if they are evil! And don't think Elrond will protect you! *shakes her head* Fangirls.  
**Gwyn** - Yup, right now Legolas is worst off. But you know me, I am a. always trying to keep things fair, and b. am rather fond of Estel (which, in my twisted way, means he gets hurt a lot), so that just MIGHT change in the future... Great you liked the Legolas torture though, there is a bit more to come in this post, so have fun!  
**Tapetum Lucidum** - *nods* Yes, Geran is very possessive - and a little bit stupid, since _everybody knows_ that Legolas is yours. *shakes head* He really is an idiot, right? LOL, 'Adruran doesn't like Geran, Hanar doesn't like Geran, and Geran doesn't like anyone'? Well, I have to admit that sums ot up quite nicely - darn, and it took me about 22 chapters to make that clear! *narrows eyes* Are you studying medicine or something? I have to admit that I didn't think of neurological and vascular damage when I wrote that bit, at least I didn't think in these terms. Stupid me. Yes, and I agree: Dáin would love to have Thranduil in his debt - who wouldn't? 'Twould be so much fun... *dreamy look*   
**Ulmo's Duck** - First: I really, really like your screenname. That isn't something you see every day... *g* And to be honest: I DO think that you're the only one who thinks that Celylith is being a 'complete ungratful, bigoted, little snot'. *g* Most of the people try to steal him, so they aren't very objective, I think. But, technically speaking, it was the dwarven healer that insulted him first, and elves are so frightfully proud people, so... *shrugs* Elves. Thanks for the review!  
**Firniswin** - Well, Friday's almost as good as Wednesday, isn't it? *fake grin* I'm sorry, but I really couldn't make it any sooner. There is something out there called RL and it is said to be more important than FF_- _yeah, right! *g* Uhm, how do I do it? I just sit down and a moment later all these funny, weird ideas are in my head and demand to be written. *shrugs* No idea, really. I am your fav FF author? *blushes* Well, that's a great honour, thank you!  
**Rynn** - I don't know, these things just happen. Sometimes I see a story and think I have read it and didn't like it and so I don't read it again - but in reality I didn't read it in the first place but only thought I had. *reads sentence again* Does that make sense? Ah well, whatever... *blushes* Aww, thank you so much for all your nice compliments - and in fact I have ALL my writing talent in one of my pinky fingers. I live in constant fear that something might happen to it... *g* I am glad to hear that you like Celylith but have to tell you that, unfortunately, you will not allowed to have the baddies before I'm finished with them. I need them only for a while longer, so you'll have to be patient... Thank you once again for all your kind words, and I am very glad you like my demented little story. Thanks!!  
**Angelsoflight** - Well, believe it or not, I DO remember you! From a time before I put my reviewers' names in bold characters... *g* I remember most of my reviewers, actually - that is because I am addicted to reviews, of course. I know! I don't know why Legolas, Aragorn and Co. keep complaining - it could be a lot worse! I am positively nice right now! And I've always liked Johnny Depp, but in PotC I hardly noticed anyone else. He was perfect! That's the word, perfect! And I'm sorry, but I think I have other plans for the bear fur - I think. Later. Perhaps. *g* Thanks a lot for reviewing again! Glad you like this story as well!  
**Firnsarnien** - I guess you could say that there's _some_ Legolas angst in this chapter. (Legolas: Some? SOME? Are you mad, woman??) *coughs* Okay, there is a bit more than some, but it's not too bad in my opinion... And about the sock: It-is-not-mine! My feet smell like the sweetest roses, remember? *grim, threatening look* And believe me, I'm _trying_ to finish the story, but the end is always quite hard, don't ask me why. *shrugs* Law of nature, I guess...  
**Leggylover03** - Uhm, there _was_ no Aragorn pain in the last chapter, simply because he wasn't in it. *narrows eyes* You meant that, right? And will Aragorn have the nightmares again ... I don't know yet. He's not really having much time to sleep right now, so perhaps in the last chapter or something - or not at all, sorry... *squirms uncomfortably* I don't really know how to tell you, but if I write the sequel roughly in the way I have planned it right now, then there will be no Elrond in it. Elladan/Elrohir and Glorfindel most likely, but no Elrond or only a very little bit, sorry.   
**Alex Mistress Squirrel** - *g* Legolas and Celylith are in a little bit of pain. But only a little, not much... *beams* I am the Queen of Angst and Pain? Yay!! *huggles Alex* Thank you so much! *dances* That's such a sweet thing to say! And what has befallen Aragorn ... Mhahahahaha! *runs off cackling evilly* Nothing!  
**Strider's Girl** - I know, I know, I should have known you people would react like that to Aragorn's absence in the last chapter. I didn't even really think about it, really! I have seen PotC twice now, and like it a lot too. You need an antidote against Orlando Bloom? Well, I have to admit I wasn't paying him much attention since I was busy worshipping Johnny Depp and the evil monkey...*g*  
**Halo** - *patiently* Of course Celylith's alive, what did you people think? And I have bought the DVD, yay Nili! And OF COURSE it was your fault that that stupid bear came up! You somehow influenced the telly with your evilness, causing it to show things that would give me evil ideas! YOUR FAULT!!! ALL YOUR FAULT!!! *g*  
**Cestari** - Well, generally I would agree with you that it's a good thing when the evil guys fail and get mad, but in Geran's case it's a little bit dangerous since he's a deranged psychopath... *g* And I wouldn't have killed Legolas in RL, because he's an elf! That's the elves' problem, they are far too strong for their own good... The archive sounds good, I have to admit that, but then again, it ALSO sounds like a lot of work - we'll see. *huggles* Thanks for reviewing!  
**XsilicaX** - Nope, I didn't say what happened to Estel, but hey, who cares? I mean, I think we should leave him there, it's not as if he's an overly interesting or attractively rugged ranger character, right? *runs off to escape Cathy's wrath* J/k, really! *carefully frees the poor random random reader from her grasp* Now, come on, the next bit is here, and Aragorn is in it! Yes, I promise! Go and read it, shooh! *right now wishing for a bacon sandwich* Hmmm, bacon...  
**Vampy2k** - Alive or not alive, that is the question! Whether... *g* Okay, shutting up now. Well, I am quite stupid sometimes, so it would be possible that I killed Aragorn - or not? Read on and find out! Thanks a lot for the reivews!  
**Imbefaniel** - Uhm, you cry when you're alone? That doesn't really sound healthy! I am glad when I am alone most of the time, I am one of these people that enjoy being alone after a long day - and it's best to leave me alone too, I can get quite grumpy... But it's easy to hate Geran, you're right there, he's not really a nice person, although I like him, somehow... *g* Uhm, you want what? A detailed description of Celylith? Well, I am sorry, but I never picture my characters that closely when I'm writing them, not even Aragorn and Legolas. He's ... well, an elf? So that makes him tall and lithe, and pointy-eared ... *trails off* Other than that, silver hair and dark silver eyebrows, and dark blue eyes. But hey, this is a _story_ and that the main characteristic of stories: Everybody imagines things differently!  
**Zam** - *joins her in her hysterical dance* TTT has come out indeed! And I have bought it, yay Nili! Well, it doesn't really matter since I downloaded it ages ago, but it's still nice to have the real thing... I have to agree with your orc horde though, I think you HAVE become more violent since Celylith's little 'accident'. You realise that he is fine and on the mend, right? Right?? And I'm not sadistic, I'm ... okay, I AM sadistic. But you guys want me to be, admit it! Glad you like the dwarves, there are more in this part, so have fun! They are indeed adorable and funny, even if they don't want to be... LOL at Dáin taking Thranduil's treasure! I somehow pictured Johnny Depp in PotC when he looked at the treasure in that cave! *wipes eyes* Funny... O Jeez, I had forgotten about the Army of Doom, Inc.! I hope this was soon enough, I really don't want another review like that one! *shudders in terror*  
**Sirithiliel** - Yes, dwarves ARE very funny to read and write! They're always so gruff and funny! Okay, that was a rather stupid statement, but whatever... *reads the Ori-angers-Dofur-bit again* No!!! *covers face in hands* You're right! I wrote elf instead of dwarf! I am sorry, I will change it asap - oh the shame! I'm so sorry! *continues to beg for forgiveness*   
**TrustingFriendship** - Mhahahaha! Legolas hasn't suffered enough, they have NEVER suffered enough! It can always get worse! Mhahah! *runs off cackling evilly* And it is truly hard to work out how to get them out of this whole mess, it took me seven days of long and hard thinking! Thanks a lot for all your great reviews!  
**Fliewatuet** - I didn't really think about that, really! I didn't not mention Aragorn on purpose or anything! It just happened, and if you want to blame someone, blame Legolas. If that bloody elf would have got up the cliff a bit faster, I might have had space to put Aragorn in! *point accusingly at barely alive elven prince* His fault! *grins evilly* You are right, I do not envy Dofur either, I mean, Celylith is a bad patient under normal circumstances, with elven healers and everything, but with dwarven ones... *trails off* Poor dwarves.   
**Amelie** - Wow, sounds like you had a nice little shopping spree! Yeah, you're right, technically speaking Legolas has already done all the falling he can, but I very often use quotes for the chapter titles. This one was one of Woodrow Wilson's: "We cannot be separated in interest or divided in purpose. We stand together until the end." Don't ask me why I put in 'falling', it just seemed right. *shrugs* I'm weird, I know. Hmm, where did I get the ideas for Legolas' injuries? Well, the arm was a spontaneous thing, I hadn't really planned to do anything to him then, but I figured that it was rather unlikely that he jumped off a cliff without hurting himself, so... *g* I don't know yet who will kill Geran, but I think it will be a team effort! *g* And of course I've seen the Extended DVD - I own it since November! I had to!  
**NaughtyNat** - *wide-eyed* Legolas. Doing the hokey pokey. In his condition. *pats her arm* Riiiiiiiiight. Believe me, I was very sorry to leave sunny Essex behind, especially since I almost died of cold when I arrived here! It's bloody freezing here! *shivers* And concerning cliffies: I think this one wasn't a real one, but the next chapter will have one, I'm afraid. But that should be the last then, ch 25 and 26 should be cliffy-free. *g* Well, usually it takes me about 4 days to write a chapter, but longer lately. They are getting longer and I have to plan a lot, mainly the EDs demises... *g* Thanks a lot for reviewing!  
**A Person** - *nods* You're right. It doesn't matter when or where I stop, it is automatically a cliffhanger, please don't ask me why. It just happens - all the time... LOL, that would be something! Legolas somehow finds his way into the cave, crawls in bloody, bleeding and near collapse, and Aragorn sits there on a bear rug, eating marshmellows and asking "What took you so long?" LOL, I think that would be enough for the poor elf to strangle him...  
**Alexa** - You're back! Hey! *huggles* I thought my story had got so bad that you stopped reading it - and I'm very glad to find out that it didn't and your computer was to blame. And you're right, I know that a bone has to be set soon after breaking it, but I count on the fact that Legolas is an elf and therefore has a little bit time before it becomes really dangerous. So he might get away with pulled muscles ... then again, Aragorn might be forced to _amputate_ after all... *evil grin* J/k! Really! We'll see what happens to him... And it might take him some time to recuperate, you're right again... Thanks for the review! I missed you! *huggles again*  
**Bailey** - Secret back entrance? *looks around her quickly* Noooooo... Nothing of that sort.... *g* Yes, something like that just might be there... And Celylith is indeed a very stupid, proud elf - as are all of them. *shakes head* Elves. This update was exactly as fast as the last one, hope that was still okay!  
**Maranwe1** - I know! I have read the first two chapters of "Traitor" now, but I simply have no time to read more! It's horrible! *demented grin* Right you are! I think Legoas should thank me for letting him fall off that cliff, he would be in a much worse shape (read dead) if Geran had got a hold of him... *g* LOL, Aragorn, where art thou, Aragorn? That was good, really... Shakespeare in my story, I could do that! And Celylith is really rather polite, but hey, he's nobility after all. I guess he learned some restraint some time... And ALL of them antagonise all the healers they meet, family included. *g* You're right again.  
**Aratfeniel** - Well, you're right, it wasn't really psychic, it was more or less a law of nature that Legolas got hurt, right? You will find out more about Aragorn and his friend, the bear, in this chapter, never fear. I liked PotC too, but to be honest I was too preoccupied with the DIVINE Johnny Depp and the evil monkey from hell to pay anyone else much attention... *g* You're geting a cold? Poor you! Here, into bed with you and drink disgusting teas! Disgusting teas always help!  
**E** - Oh, there is a warning in the disclaimers. Go back to chapter 1 and if you scroll down a little, there are the two bold letters **AU**, plain to see for everybody! Mhahahaha! *g* You think it's funny that Aragorn is trapped beneath a bear? Uhm, okay, if you think so... But I agree, once (and if! *evil grin*) they get back Mirkwood, King Thranduil will NOT be pleased! And Hithrawyn will probably have a heart attack. *g*  
**CrazyLOTRfan** - *narrows eyes* I wrote the first 14-something chapters while going to college at the same time, so you can review while ging to school! Understood? Yes? *grim look* No, j/k, really, I understand that you'll be busy... I'm glad that you usually don't watch forest fires, that would have been too weird... Glad you and your computer are safe though!   
**Lembas7** - 'A full recovery = just around the corner!'? Ah, dear friend, but so many things can go wrong... *evil grin* You never know what will happen! I guess that all three of them are in need of medical attention, although I guess that Legolas is worst off right now. LOL, I think that Aragorn is rather grateful right now that the twins are not there, they would never let him live this down! And Thranduil's reaction will be interesting, of that I'M sure... Good fanfiction writer? What am I, a dog? No, on second thought, don't answer that... *g* Thanks for your great reviews!  
**Mouse5** - Thank you! It's great to hear that I'm improving and not getting worse! And since you have been following my weird little stories for some time it means really a lot to me! *huggles Mouse* And I'm still planning Geran's demise, but I think Legolas will at least have a part in it. *nods* Yup, most probably.  
**Elenora** - Nope, I don't mind at all! Feedback in any form is most welcome! *g* *innocent smile* No, I am not enjoying your anxiety in the least - that would be evil and we all know that I am NOT evil... *g* Thanks a lot for saying that this story is not just a sequel - that was indeed one of my concerns, that I couldn't come up with a convincing story line and OCs again. It's very good to hear that you like it! And I don't know if that was a constructive review either, and I don't care either. I loved it! *huggles* Thanks!  
**Lady Sandry** - Legolas is 'really not having a very good time of it'? Nope, he is not, you could say that... LOL, the mere thought of an Aragorn Lives Foundation is enough to transform me into a gibbering mass on the ground! The Celylith Lives Foundation was vicious, but Aragorn's would have to be deadly... I'm glad you liked the twins in the last chapter, I really missed them and just had to put them in! And I understand why you're Lady Sandry now, I was very glad that no-one else has my screen name, which is not really surprising! *g* I wouldn't want to have a number behind my name either!  
**ThE iNsAnE oNe** - Now it has happened. Miki's lost what was left of her sanity. Tragic but true. Rubber ducks? Well, that is something new, that's for sure... And it's not my fault if you're too late to review, it's yours! I mean, you have about seven days, so come on... *g* No, it's okay really, you don't have to review either. I know that you're very busy this year... LOl, pancakes à la elfie? *imagines it and fall off her chair laughing* THAT is an interesting idea! Don't overdo it with your algebra, geometry and stuff, always remember: It's only school? *sheepish* That doesn't really help, huh?  
**Asha Dreamweaver** - Oh, I COULD make it AU and kill Aragorn. It's always nice to see what happens then... *g* But never fear, I won't kill him - in this story, I think... *evil grin* You might be right, you know. I don't think that Celithramyr and Thranduil will be very please when they see their sons - ot Elrond when he hears about it...   
**Lina** - Come now, do you never curse? I curse sometimes, unfortunately, and I am SURE I would curse when I had an arrow sticking out of my shoulder! LOL, it's always the question what's worse: Being stuck in a dark cave alone or being stuck in a dark cave with Lina! It's rally hard to say... *g* And I think the correct translation for Hobbitlet would be _'perianeg'_. That should be correct, so Zam is a nogotheg and you are a perianeg. *g* Sounds good! And I really hope Éomer finds you soon, I'm sure he's beside himself with worry right now! *g*  
**Marbienl** - Short? *wide-eyed* You call that short? Well, then I would really like to see what you consider long, then... LOL, Geran should have hit himself? That would have been a bit like in Robin Hood - Men in Tights! *g* Right, we FF writers are the most normal people in the world! WE don't hurt anybody! And see, what happened to Legolas' back is what happens when you give me funny ideas! *g* No, j/k, I wrote that a long toime before that, never fear... And you like Red Bull? Really? I could never stand that stuff, I think it's much too sweet. If I need something to keep me awake I drink Diet Coke with lemon, which is the most divine thing after Ginger Ale/Beer. *shrugs* I have weird taste, I know. I will think about a fatherly Frór scene, but to be honest I don't really want to put it in. You know I try to humour my reviewers, but it doesn't feel right. So, perhaps, that's all I can say, okay? I am sorry I couldn't make it one ar two days sooner, but I've been too busy. And no, I've never suffered a writer's block, I somehow just sit down and write! I hope you get home safe and sound, and don't worry to review! I know you're busy! Thanks a lot for your 'short' review!  
**Ciria** - Yay! Ciria's back! Hey, your German sentence was very good! There were a few minor mistakes, but mainly it was just fine! Congrats, it's not an easy language! I hope you're better now and tha your computer has stopped giving you any trouble? *sighs* Why do they keep doing that? Never fear, I will definitely read your reviews, even if they are for earlier chapters! I love all reviews! *huggles her* Oh, and thanks, I had a very nice time in England, the weather was simply great. And you're right, Miki's reviews are indeed insane! I like her squargs, though... *g* LOL, 'Estel, meet Estel and Estel meet Estel'? That would be very interesting! I can just picture it... Glad you liked that chapter, and I hope you'll like the rest as well! Thanks for reviewing again, I missed you!  
**Nikara** - 'Whoever finds them will find both of them'? That's an interesting way of seeing it... *g* I think all three of them are the worst patients any healer can imagine, and believe me, I already pity poor Hithrawyn! I hope this chapter was soon enough to cheer you up a little, thanks for the review!  
**Eva27** - Here it is, the chapter with your Sindarin curse. Hope you'll like it! *g* Okay, but you keep confusing me, and I'll tell you why: In the beginning you write that Cyd's a natural healing freak, therefore implying that you are not Cyd. And then you sign as Cyd? That doesn't make much sense, does it? You realy have to explain that to me... All your family are in the military? Well, that has to be interesting; my whole family is very pacifistic and no-one is in the military!  
**Shaz1** - Well, thank you very much, I'm very glad you like it! I don't think that there will be any more real Aragorn torture though, we don't want to kill the poor lad, after all, do we? No... Thanks a lot for reviewing! Reviews help me immensely, really!  
**Seveawen** - Great you are back! I hope you had lots of fun! I'm sure you did, I am so jealous! 3 ½ weeks in Italy! There are som many wonderful things there, museums and ruins and all that... *sighs* Not fair. And yes, you DO drive on the wrong side of the road, but I love it! Well, and I guess Legolas hadn't really planned it that way, it was more or less an accident that he had to jump off that cliff really... And sorry to diappoint you, but Geran won't try out the saw on me, he knowsw I am the author and therefore the mistress of his universe, it would be very stupid and almost suicidal to do so! Glad you liked it and thanks for the review!  
**Cara** - *bnlushes* Thank you! It's always great to 'see' someone new who likes my weird little stories... I was a bit away from Devon, in Essex to be precise. It has the one, unbeatable, distinctive advantage that it's not far from London, which I absolutely love! I just love that city! And believe me, I know how horrible English weather can be - I was there last year from April - October. Lots of rain and cold, yesss precioussss... *g* I have indeed more stories planned, at least one more, and I think there even is the shadowy outline of a forth - we'll see. Thanks a lot for reviewing, reviews help immensely! Thanks a lot!  
**TigerLily713** - I know, I couldn't write an only-serious-chapter if my life depended on it! Glad you still like it, thanks for reviewing!  
**Critternut** - Nope., and I won't do anything to his legs either, I need both him and Aragorn to be able to walk! So rest assured, his legs will be fine... *evil grin* I won't say Happy Birthday now because it's bad luck, but your present sound very good! I mean, I am SO not interested in football (even though I like the movie Bend it Like Beckham! *g*), but if you are there is nothing better than the World Cup - I guess! *g* And I had lots of fun in Englad, and to be honest, yes, I like it better than the US. The accent is unbeatable, and it's close to Scotland which I simply LOVE! *g* Hope you have lots of fun on your birthday! *huggles her*  
**Ellyrianna** - You read THAT in the Da Vinci Code? I mean, I knew that he invented lots of things, but torture methods? Really? But thanks a lot, I will think about putting it into the next story! It's great you agree with me that a dead Legolas would have messed the whole thing up a bit, and I'm sorry that I couldn't get this up on Thursday! *sobs* Sorry! Hope this is still soon enough to cheer you up a little!  
**Brethil, Estelle** - Yes, to live or not to live, that is the question... *g* Will Aragorn survive or not? Read on, dear friend, and find out! Thanks for revewing!   
**Aron** - I must say Legolas is very clever to disguise himself as C-3PO! I don't think he has many fangirls following him... Hmm, so Aragorn would be Chewie then? As long as he isn't Jar-Jar Binks I don't care - I hate that ... that ... that THING with a passion! And to defend Geran a little, he comes from the East and is still fairly young, so he hadn't had the chance to 'study' elves. Since there aren't many East of Mirkwood... 'Happy Geran means pain for our heroes which is not good'? You might be right there, but I guess it's a no-win situation for our dear heroes! It's even worse if Geran is unhappy, so go figure... *g* I'm glad you liked the description of Legolas' wounds, I was afraid I had overdone it a little there... *evil grin* Don't mention to Celylith that he agreed with dwarves, though. He's a little bit testy about that one... 'Plus he's unconcious which is not helping the situation...' LOL, no it's not helping the situation at all... *g* ROTFL!! Aragorn as Rapunzel!! Jeez... *g*   
**Stacee Phelps** - That's exactly the point: He's so damn the beautiful, strong, and brave! It's his own fault he gets hurt all the time! *evil grin* I am sorry for not updating any sooner, but there is someting called RL and sometimes it demands some attention... *g* I hope you wiped the floor with the other team, and in case it was the other way round: They cheated! Even it's not true, it makes you feel better! *g*  
**Reginabean** - I am looking forward to that cookie once I find a little bit time to read your story! Not right now, but I will find some time ... some time. *g* Okay, that sounded rather stupid... My God, it's a Whack-a-Nili-MACHINE now? That really sounds dangerous... *g* Thanks for all your great reviews, btw!  
**Delph** - *evil grin* Yup. No matter how bad things are, they can always get worse. That's my motto. It was my pleasure not to kill Celylith, or let's say it would have been my pleasure to kill him but I was too afraid of the CLF to kill him. *shrugs* They are really dangerous... *g* Thanks a lot for your review! Reviews are soooo nice and they help to encourage me a lot!  
  
***wipes brow* Wow, that took a long time! Thanks a lot for all your reviews and encouragement! I would hug you but I have to go to find my dwarves that just escaped, sorry! Thanks a lot again!**  
  
  
  
  



	24. Sunrise

**Disclaimer: **For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.  
  
  
**A/N:  
  
*gives chapter evil looks* I swear I don't know how they do it. This chapter just refused to end, no matter what I did! That is simply not fair! Well, in the end I was forced to let it be, and here we are, with a chapter that's over 26 pages long! _26_, for crying out loud! Hmm, it might have been because I had this last paragraph stuck in my head and just HAD to end it like that and had to somehow get to that point - but no, it's all the characters' fault! If they would just shut up when I tell them to... *g*  
  
Okay, I am a bit calmer now. Besides, I don't think that you object to long chapters, huh? Probably not. The only one who's objecting is me since it proves I have no control whatsoever over this plot... *shakes head sadly* Poor Nili.  
  
I am very glad you all like the fact that Aragorn actually has a _plan_ for once, even though I have to admit that it's ... well, it's one of Aragorn's plans, that says everything, does it not? *evil grin* Poor little ranger and elf...**   
  
  
**Very well, without further ramblings I give you chapter 24! Yay Nili! It's a monster chapter with a mind of its own, but hey... *shrugs* Okay, what do we have ... Aragorn and Legolas have a little philosophical 'discussion', we find out if Aragorn's and Legolas' plan is working or not, Legolas meets some old friends, _we_ meet lots of new friends, and to top off everything nicely we have a cliffy! Yay Nili again! *evil grin***  
  
**Have fun and review, please!  
  
  
  
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Chapter 24  
  
  
The darkness of the pre-dawn hours surrounded the two figures that slowly moved through the wooded area, their movements slow and stealthy. If one looked closely enough though, it was clearly visible that neither of the two was well, judging by the somewhat jerky and stiff way their bodies moved.  
  
One of the two, an elf with blonde hair and a rather bruised face, turned slowly to his dark haired, equally bruised companion, the slowness of the movement betraying the weariness he felt.  
"Let us rest here for a few minutes, Aragorn. I can already hear the men in the camp, and we both need the rest before we get there."  
  
The young ranger looked at the elf, eyes that were far too bright gleaming in the moonlight.  
"But we…"  
  
"No," the elven prince shook his head. "You need rest. I need rest. Ten minutes will hardly matter."  
  
Aragorn narrowed his eyes but complied after a few moments, his own body telling him insistently that sitting down was a very good idea. He plopped to the ground, not even bothering to mask the pain that movement brought. He had reached the point where he didn't care a long time ago; all that mattered now was to go on and reach Adruran's camp on time to carry out their plan. He grinned inwardly. Some (probably rather friendly) people would call their plan slightly desperate, others, for example his brothers, would call it foolhardy, stupid and far too risky.  
  
It was the only plan they had, he shrugged inwardly, and until someone turned up with a contingent of friendly warriors that were just dying to help them, it was the best they had been able to come up with.  
  
The younger ranger sat back against a fallen, snow covered log and closed his eyes, one arm wrapped protectively around his ribcage. It was at times like these that he longed to be an elf, to have their stamina, endurance and strength. Legolas was hurt worse than he was and yet he managed to go on, and he looked a lot better than he himself. Well, technically he didn't know what he was looking like, but considering the way he felt, namely in a lot of pain, thirsty, hungry, hot and distinctly weak, he assumed that he didn't look too good. He was probably in a state that would have caused his elven father to give him a fleeting glance, then give him the _look_ and drag him off into the healing wing to drug him for the rest of the year.  
  
'The healing wing … drugs … athelas … _ada_ …'  
  
A pang of homesickness and longing for his family swept through him, and for a moment he wished for nothing more than to wake up and find that this had all been a dream, a nightmare, nothing more.   
  
Aragorn shook his head slowly. It hadn't been a nightmare, no, nightmares didn't tend to get people killed, and Celylith was dead. Guilt once again threatened to overcome his senses. Elbereth, it had all been his fault, if he hadn't insisted that they went to Erebor, none of this would have happened, and he wouldn't have to return to Mirkwood to explain to Celythramir that his only son, who had never been meant to leave Middle-Earth like this, was dead.  
  
"Aragorn?" Legolas' soft voice interrupted this unpleasant train of thought, something for which the man was rather thankful.  
  
The young human slowly opened his eyelids, for a moment suspecting that someone had placed leaden weights on them.  
"Yes? Are we leaving again?"  
  
Legolas, who sat a few feet away on a small boulder, looking as white as the snow around them, grimaced slightly.  
"No, we are not. Are you alright?"  
  
Aragorn gave the elf a rather forced smile.  
"I think so, yes. I just wish we had something to drink."  
  
The elven prince's frown deepened. That was a wish he shared whole-heartedly, especially considering how much blood both of them had lost. His own elven body could deal with the loss of the vitally important fluid better than Aragorn's, even though it would finally catch up with him as well. They both needed water, and soon.  
  
"So do I, my friend, so do I. The camp isn't far now, we should be able to get something there."  
  
Aragorn nodded slowly as he tried to ignore the pounding in his head as best as possible. His headache had got ever worse, something that he knew was connected to the blood loss, but that knowledge did little to help him ease the feeling that his brain was trying to force its way out of his head via his ears.  
  
After a second of silence he raised his head and looked at the elf, his mind still on Celylith.  
"Legolas?" he asked somewhat hesitantly.  
  
The fair haired elf cocked his head slightly to the side, rather glad to concentrate on a conversation rather than on the pain in his body and what could possibly go wrong with their plan.  
"Yes?"  
  
"You have to promise me something," the ranger demanded seriously, silver eyes clinging to the other's face.  
  
"What, my friend?" Legolas asked, narrowing his eyes a little bit suspiciously. If Aragorn thought he would stay behind, then he was sadly mistaken. There was no way the man could carry out their plan alone; in fact, he doubted that they would be able to carry it out together.  
  
Aragorn bit down on his bottom lip, his bruised face pleading in the near darkness.  
"Promise me that you won't go in there only thinking of revenge. Promise me to try to come back alive rather than avenge him at all cost. We are both not in the condition to fight them."  
  
Legolas' face darkened before he quickly averted his eyes, fixing them on the snow at his feet as if there was something fascinating to discover there.  
"I cannot promise you that, Estel. You know I can't."  
  
"Yes, you can!" the man insisted, reaching out to grab his friend's good wrist. "You just do not want to, that's all! I understand your need for revenge, Valar, I want to kill them too, but Celylith is dead, Legolas, and your death will not bring him back!"  
  
The elven prince wrenched his wrist out of the human's grasp and would have jumped to his feet had he not felt so wretched.   
"No, I do not want to, you are right!" he exclaimed heatedly, blue eyes flashing in his face. "Celylith is dead, Aragorn, by their hands! I owe him to make sure he is avenged, I owe him that, no matter the cost!"  
  
A strange shadow flickered across the man's face.  
"Do you know who you sound like, Legolas?" he asked and grabbed the elf's arm again. "Do you? You sound like Cornallar! Have you already forgotten what his blind thirst for revenge brought in its wake? Revenge at all cost is never the answer, that is something _you _should know!"  
  
Legolas just stared at the ranger's face, and for a second their surroundings seemed to blur and shift until they were back in that cave where he had found Aragorn these few months ago, barely alive and shying away from his touch because of what Cornallar and his men had done to him. His eyes travelled down to his friend's hand that still gripped his sleeve, and suddenly all tension seemed to drain out of his body.  
  
"You are right," he whispered and closed his eyes, forcefully suppressing the cold shivers that raced across his back. Ilúvatar, he had been so quick to condemn the elf lord for letting himself be consumed by hate and need for revenge, and now he saw that it could happen far quicker and easier than he had thought. "You are right, Estel, I am sorry. Forgive me, I did not mean to…"  
  
"It is alright," Aragorn's hand on his arm tightened a little. "I can imagine what you feel like."  
  
Legolas didn't speak for a few seconds, pain and grief etched onto his face.  
  
"I miss him," the fair haired elf admitted softly at last and looked at his human friend again. "I try to remember his face, what he looked like in life, and all I can see is his bloody body at the foot of that boulder." He fought down the tears that once again wanted to escape from his eyes. "All I can remember is that and the expression on his face when the arrow hit him. He looked so confused and surprised, as if he couldn't believe what was happening to him, as if he was hoping that all this was a nightmare he would wake up from any second." Legolas paused, staring vacantly into space. "But I cannot understand why he smiled. He smiled at me, Aragorn, and it was a real smile. I cannot forget that smile, it haunts my every waking moment."  
  
After a few minutes the ranger broke the heavy silence that weighted on them after the elf's barely audible words, giving a small, sad smile of his own.  
  
"I can understand it, my friend. Only too well." Legolas looked at him in mild surprise, and Aragorn continued, eyes bright and at the same time dark in his face. "He was glad, Legolas, glad that it was him and not you."  
  
The elf looked at him in horrified disbelief, but he raised a hand to silence him.  
  
"I know what he felt like. When we fished you out of the Long Lake and you were not breathing, I felt my heart break and fall to pieces, bit by bit the longer you didn't respond to the treatment. I know what Celylith felt like, for in that moment I wished for nothing more than to be in your place, to not be the one left behind to pick up the pieces." He paused for a moment. "I would have smiled as well."  
  
"I would never have wanted him or you to give your lives for me!" Legolas exclaimed, silver-blue eyes wide in his bruised face. "You are – were - my best friends!"  
  
Aragorn smiled slightly, sadness and grief stealing over his face.  
"Aye," he nodded, "You were his prince, and that was something he never forgot. But he would have died for _you_, gladly and without a second thought. And," he added, studying his elven friend carefully, "one day I will leave the circles of this world and leave you too, Legolas. That is something neither of us can influence or change, and I daily thank Ilúvatar that it will be me who goes and not you, for I do not think that I could bear it."  
  
The elf looked at him, bright tears gleaming in his eyes.  
"What makes you think that I will be able to bear it? To lose both my best friends in the span of a few hundred years, what makes you think that I would want to live with that?"  
  
"You are an elf," Aragorn simply stated. "The firstborn are stronger than we humans, both in body and in mind. You will leave for the Undying Lands and join your people, and a part of us will live on forever as long as you remember us. You are stronger than I could ever be, _mellonamin_."  
  
Legolas shook his head and was about to speak up, but the ranger interrupted him before he had even formulated a single word.  
  
"And because you are stronger than I am, I beg you to promise me, Legolas. Promise me to keep to the plan and seek your own escape. Do not pursue your revenge at the cost of your own life, please! Do not leave me here to pick up the pieces."  
  
The elven prince bowed his head, pale golden hair falling forwards to conceal his bruised features. After a moment he nodded and reached out with his hand to grasp his human friend's.  
"I promise. I do not know what the future will bring, but I promise you I will not go and look for them. But," he stopped, his eyes darkening even further, "but if I come across Geran or Hanar or any of them, I will kill them. That is something nobody can stop me from. Not even you."  
  
"That is good enough for me, then," Aragorn nodded and gave him a small smile, squeezing the elf's hand slightly. "Shall we go on?"  
  
Legolas inclined his head, and together they struggled to their feet, leaning against each other for support. The young man grinned at his companion, raising a mocking eyebrow to chase away the dark mood their conversation had conjured.  
"A fine pair we make."  
  
Legolas snorted, slowly letting go of the man's shoulder as he attempted to regain his balance.  
"It is all your fault," he stated as they took up their stealthy walk once more. "Before I met you…  
  
"…you never had any trouble, never got involved into anything surprising or dangerous and obeyed your father without question. Ha!" Aragorn retorted, running an unsteady hand over his flushed face. "I never believed that, and everything I have learned in the past few years has only reinforced that belief."  
  
"I am hurt, ranger," Legolas shook his head in mock dismay. "You do not trust my word?"  
  
Aragorn stopped shortly and gave the elven prince an incredulous look.  
"No?"  
  
Legolas muttered something undistinguishable under his breath, and the two of them continued their journey in amiable silence. A couple of minutes later they reached the outskirts of the small wood that encircled the men's camp on two sides, the dark, leafless trees contrasting sharply against the whiteness of the snow that gleamed slightly in the moonlight.  
  
The two beings stopped, both of them knowing that it was time for them to separate, but both of them reluctant to do so. After a few heartbeats' pause Aragorn smiled thinly and unconsciously slung his arms around his middle to stave off the night's chill. Legolas had wanted to return the young man's cloak to him when they had left the cavern about an hour ago, but Aragorn would hear nothing of it. He stubbornly insisted that he was fine with only his shirt and that there was no way that he would allow Legolas to freeze when he himself had a cloak to spare. Besides, most of the time he felt much too hot anyway.  
  
"This is it, then," he stated quietly and looked at his elven friend. "But I still say that the dwarves might come to aid us."  
  
Legolas almost rolled his eyes, his trust and belief in the small folk's abilities apparently not nearly as great as the ranger's.  
"They wouldn't know what happened to us, even if they would want to help us which I doubt in the first place. Nay, my friend, we are on our own."  
  
Aragorn nodded his head reluctantly.  
"It is as you say, I fear. Just remember your promise, my friend, and all will be well."  
  
The fair haired elf merely raised a quizzical eyebrow at his friend's attempt at optimism, but nodded after a second, his face serious.  
"I gave you my word, Estel, and I will keep it. But now you have to promise _me _something."  
  
"Anything that does not include staying behind," Aragorn agreed quickly, looking at the other expectantly.  
  
"Come back alive," Legolas simply said, locking eyes with the man. "While you are right and we will be separated, one day, I am not yet ready for it. Try to stay as low as possible and once you have finished your task, do not get back to the camp. I will find a way just as I promised you, but promise me to make for the rendezvous point and wait there for me. I will come, that is something I promise. Do not leave _me _here to pick up the pieces."  
  
The young man smiled slightly, and nodded with a reluctant move of his head.  
"I will be there."  
  
"As will I, if our plans do not go astray," the Prince of Mirkwood replied, an answering smile spreading on his face. He grasped the other's hand in a tight grip, suddenly reluctant to let go, an inexplicable fear in his heart that he would never see his human friend again if he let go of him now. "Look after yourself, reckless human. Be careful, and may the Valar watch over your path."  
  
"And over yours, my friend," Aragorn replied, forcing himself to another smile. "Just don't get yourself into trouble and we should be able to get out of this alive." He turned serious again, studying the elf's lithe, bloody form with quiet intensity. "Remember my words, stubborn elf. I will wait for you, forever if I have to."  
  
After a few more seconds he broke the eye contact and gave his elven friend's hand a last squeeze before he turned without another word, beginning to make his way over to the foothills of the mountain that rose behind Adruran's camp. Giving the encampment itself a wide berth, he avoided the small hill in front of him and headed north-west, prepared to do what they had agreed would buy the elf enough time to fulfil his role in their little plan himself.  
  
Legolas looked after the man for a long time, a very long time, until his figure had disappeared behind the hill that was situated next to the men's camp. Never before had he felt this anxious and afraid to lose his friend, not even when the human had been captured by Cornallar, Donyc and his men. He had feared for his safety and well-being then as well, of course, but it had always been a faint, somehow unrealistic possibility for him that Estel might die. He had somehow assumed that nothing would happen to him, because Aragorn always managed to escape the situations they got themselves into more or less in one piece, but now it was different. Now it had been made clear to him that they all could die, even Celylith and he, and that at some stage, eventually, their luck would run out.  
  
The Valar didn't protect anyone forever, and sooner or later fate caught up with you, no matter who you were.  
  
The elven prince turned around with a sigh, forcing his tired, fiercely hurting body to move, and he slowly moved off into the direction of the camp, sending a fervent prayer to the One to protect them for a bit longer yet.  
  
  
  
  
Adruran was slowly getting into a good mood, something he desperately tried to combat. Partly it was because he didn't want to get ahead of himself, because he wanted to remain objective and calm and didn't want to assume that everything would be going the way he wanted, because it all went – for once – according to plan. For the main part however, it was because, right now, he _wanted _to be ill-tempered.  
  
The dark haired man started pacing again, back and forth, striding through his small beige tent without any signs of stopping soon. He was annoyed, no, he was beyond annoyed with Geran now. The boy had finally managed to overdo it, but he couldn't really reproach him for his actions since his mission had been accomplished, after all: The ranger and the elf were dead.  
  
Adruran gave a low, rather nasty curse. He had wanted to kill the two of them quickly and cleanly after it had become obvious that neither one would tell them anything any time soon and that it would take far longer than they had to force them to change that attitude, but Geran had somehow convinced him that he had everything completely under control and that it wouldn't hurt to allow him and some of the men a little fun.  
  
He ran a hand through his hair, finally abandoning his attempts to calm down altogether. He honestly didn't know why he had granted his young lieutenant's request, and now here he was, facing the consequences, namely a very dead guard and a lieutenant that was in a worse mood than before. Neither Geran nor Hanar or any of his men had divulged what exactly had happened between them, the elf and the ranger, but Adruran was intelligent enough to put the pieces together.   
  
All this was Geran's fault, ultimately proving that the younger man was unable to effectively command anybody on his own. He was too concentrated on his own pleasure to accomplish a mission, and that was exactly what he was planning to tell him tomorrow – or rather today - after they had salvaged the rest of the treasure and … "disposed" of the Lake-men. Adruran frowned. That was yet another thing he thought highly unnecessary, eliminating eleven men at once was nothing less than unprofessional.  
  
Adruran suppressed a tired sigh. The entire operation had been unprofessional and haunted by misfortune and failure. He rubbed his brow, trying to ease the headache that was growing inside his skull. It was getting too much for him, he was losing the interest in all this. He still enjoyed the meticulous planning that preceded every mission, the positioning of the pieces and the sudden strike, and he was far from regretting killing even one of the many beings he had killed in his time (in his opinion, most of them had deserved it anyway, and may it only be for their general incompetence), but to work with hotheads and amateurs like Geran and Hanar was beginning to tire and annoy him. Perhaps it was indeed time to disappear, he mused, knowing full well that there would be no retirement for someone like him. He would finish this mission, return to his liege and deliver what he had promised to retrieve, and after that he would simply vanish without a trace. Nobody went up to his lord and told him that he wanted to quit, and he was certainly not stupid enough to be the first to try what exactly the consequences of such an action would prove to be.  
  
The dark haired man resisted the urge to beat his head against a tent pole when he heard his name being called by Tiddryr, his red haired lieutenant, in a rather timid voice one might add. After a few moments Adruran remembered that he had ordered him to appear here before dawn to talk about the procedures preceding their departure, and he answered the call, trying to keep at least some of his anger and frustration out of his voice.  
  
A second later Tiddryr entered, looking definitely ill at ease with the entire situation.  
"Good morning, sir."  
  
Adruran refrained from pointing out that it was hardly morning yet and simply nodded.  
"Tiddryr. How is everything proceeding?"  
  
"Well enough, sir," the red haired man began, eyeing the other carefully. Everybody knew that Adruran was in a bad mood right now, and he would not serve for venting his anger if he had anything to say about it at all. "The main part of the treasure has been brought to the entrance of the tunnel and is ready to be loaded onto the animals. The whole process shouldn't take longer than eight to ten hours, so we can be gone ere sunset."  
  
"What about the Lake-men?" Adruran questioned, refusing to let his good mood resurface again. There was always something that could go wrong, and it usually would go wrong as well. "They haven't figured out yet what will happen to them?"  
  
"No. They do as they're told," Tiddryr stated evenly. "Some of them needed some … 'encouragement' in the beginning, but they have learned that it is best to co-operate. A few have been giving us some trouble, and their leader of course. He's still at the mountain working on, Bleon and especially Geran thought that might teach him and serve as an example."  
  
"Oh, he would," Adruran mumbled under his breath, the annoyance once again stealing over him.  
  
Tiddryr wondered for a moment whether or not he should ask what his captain had meant by that, but decided against it quickly. This mission was almost over, and after all the trouble they've had he really didn't want his throat to be ripped out now by his own superior.  
  
"Very well," Adruran went on, oblivious to his lieutenant's thoughts, "Have a seat, then. We have a lot to plan yet."   
  
He paused for a moment, cocking his head to the side. He was almost sure he had heard something outside his tent, no, he had _felt _it, that was the better word for it. The dark haired man slowly and soundlessly stood to his feet and gave Tiddryr a sign to remain where he was. With stealthy movements that would have had a ranger nod in approval he quickly crossed the distance to the tent's entrance and, wrenching his sword from its sheath at the same time, forcefully slapped the canvas aside as he quickly stepped out.  
  
Adruran stood in the entrance of his tent, feeling slightly ridiculous when he saw absolutely nothing there, only a raven that eyed him curiously before disappearing between the dark branches of a nearby tree, squawking mockingly. He quickly rounded his tent, looking for tracks or signs that someone had indeed been here, but once again he found nothing.   
  
He slowly returned his blade to its sheath, silently contemplating if he was finally losing it now. But no, he thought as he returned to his tent, his instincts had told him that there had been someone there, and he had learned long ago to trust these feelings because they had saved his life on more than one occasion. Yet he could see nothing, and that was something that filled him with increasing unease. He would indeed be very glad when this mission was over, he decided as he sat down in front of Tiddryr, who looked at him in confusion, copper eyebrows almost touching his hairline. Perhaps he _was _getting too old for this.  
  
Tiddryr decided in a split second not to comment on his captain's rather irrational behaviour and quickly redirected his gaze to his hands, trying not to affront the other man in any way.  
He almost sighed with relief when Adruran simply resumed their conversation where they had left off.  
  
"Alright, Tiddryr. Tell me how you have planned to dispose of the Lake-men, but we will _not _give them to Geran and his friends. They have had enough fun for a while. After that we can discuss the route home."  
  
The red haired man nodded and began to illustrate his plans, thanking the Gods that all this would be over soon.  
  
  
  
  
Legolas pressed his head against the cool, dark bark of the tree and took a deep breath. Elbereth, this had been close, too close. A part of him was still slightly baffled by the speed with which he had managed to climb this tree, but the mere idea of what would happen to him, the Lake-men and Aragorn should he be caught now had served to encourage him more than he had thought possible.  
  
He suppressed a cold shiver and gripped the tree trunk a bit more tightly. He was by no means a coward or afraid of these people, but there was one thing he never wanted to see again, and that was Geran's little toy. He could still very well remember what it had felt like, the ripping, searing pain and the overwhelming helplessness and fury that had coloured his every thought…  
  
The fair haired elf quickly shook his head and banished these memories from his mind as he carefully let go of the tree, reassured by its soft whispers that it wouldn't let him fall. He slowly ran his fingers over the bark, smiling slightly when he felt a soft shiver of contentment run through the tree, and awkwardly fumbled for the water skin he had … liberated from the tent where they had kept Aragorn and him, the one where the men kept their provisions and water.  
  
Uncorking it quickly, he had to stop himself from drinking all at once, and took slow, careful sips instead. Elentári, he had never known that water could taste so sweet! Now that he actually had the chance to replace some of the fluid he had lost, he began to fully realise how weakened the blood loss had left him. Legolas forced himself to return the water skin to his belt after some time, hoping fervently that Aragorn had managed to find some water as well. The young human needed it much more urgently than him since his mortal body didn't possess the firstborns' strength and endurance for matters such as these.  
  
Slowly the elf began to climb down the tree, smiling again when he felt the tree's sadness at this. There were not many elves in these parts, and the tree was rather unhappy to lose his company again so soon. Giving the bark a small, reassuring pat, Legolas once again concentrated on their plan. He had been on his way from the tent where he had found the water to the back of the camp where they kept the prisoners when he had come past Adruran's tent and heard raised voices.  
  
His sharp elven ears had heard Geran's name, and he had stepped closer, temporarily forgetting what he had promised his human friend. He had only been outside the tent for a few moments when his senses had screamed that he had been discovered, that the men suspected that someone was outside their tent, and the only thing he could think of had been to climb the next best tree he could see and hope to become part of the branches.  
  
It hadn't been a moment too soon and Legolas nearly wouldn't have made it, hampered by his injuries and especially his broken arm as he was, because Adruran had appeared at the tent's entrance, sword drawn and alert. The elf had to give the man some credit for the sharpness of his senses, even though it was clouded by self-reproach and quiet disbelief.  
Ilúvatar, if the men could hear him just like that, then he was indeed in a rather bad shape…  
  
Legolas winced slightly when his feet touched the snowy ground as pain once again flared to life in his chest. He pushed it to the back of his head and quietly slipped into the shadows of the forest, trying to be as quiet and invisible as his hurting body would allow him. He carefully moved along the forest's edge as he reviewed the information he had just received from Adruran and his red haired lieutenant. So they were almost finished, just as Aragorn and he had thought, and were indeed planning to eliminate the Lake-men when they were ready to leave.  
  
New resolve filled him, taking away some of the exhaustion and pain he felt. Now it was essential that they did get the Lake-men out of here, tonight, or else everything would be for naught and they would fail the trust Owaeran had placed in them, the trust that they would bring his brother back to Lake-town safe and sound.  
  
He increased his pace, slightly surprised that his body didn't complain. It had probably given up, he thought wryly, after having realised that he wouldn't pay attention to the warning signals it emitted. Finally, he thought with a small sense of triumph, he had mastered his body, showing it who was in command here…  
  
His sense of achievement turned to ashes when he lost his footing on the uneven, snow covered forest floor – something that added yet another layer of shame to his consciousness, for wood-elves usually did not lose their footing – and he fell to one knee, his body screaming loudly in pain when it was jarred by the impact. Cursing soundlessly, Legolas pushed himself back to his feet, deciding that this was far from over. One of these days he would show his body who was really in control, some time … perhaps not right now, but soon. Very soon, after he had spent some time in Hithrawyn's healing wing, an idea that appeared very attractive to him right now.  
  
The elven prince resumed his walk, knowing that he would have to hurry. Aragorn would soon be ready, and he had quite a few things to do before then. He grinned grimly. Oh yes, quite a few things, and if he managed to do even a third of them, he would be rather impressed himself.  
  
He stealthily moved past the men's horses that were standing huddled together to his right, mumbling soft elven words under his breath in an attempt to calm the startled animals. The last thing he needed now was to be given away by a horse. A moment later though, it appeared as if just that would happen when three horses that stood a bit away from the others began to strain against the ropes that bound them to poles that had been driven into the ground, bright manes gleaming in the light of the dipping moon.  
  
For a few seconds, Legolas simply stood as if rooted to the spot, cursing the troublesome beasts in his mind, before his tired brain understood why the horses were acting in this particular manner. A smile lighting up his bruised face, he hurried over to the animals as quickly as possible, feeling as if he had just rediscovered some very old friends – which he had, in a way.  
  
The smile turned into a frown and then into an angry grimace when he studied the three overjoyed horses that were trying to free themselves of the leashes that secured them to the poles. Every horse wore a thick leather halter whose mouthpieces dug deeply into the soft skin of their mouths, and slashes and welts could be seen on their lean bodies. The big, white horse seemed to have suffered worse than the other two; dark, ragged welts covering most of the dully gleaming white coat.  
  
"Rashwe!" Legolas called out, reaching his horse's side a second later, blue eyes darkening when he saw the cruel treatment their beasts had had to suffer. He reached out and gently stroked the brightly gleaming white nose, looking slightly alarmed when Rashwe neighed softly at then touch, afraid that it might attract attention. "What did they do to all of you, my friend?"  
  
The horse simply rubbed its nose against his shoulder, snorting softly, and Legolas quickly began to unfasten the halter and ropes that bound the horse to the pole. When he had freed Rashwe, he walked over to Aragorn's and Celylith's horse, the latter appearing sad and dejected when it looked in vain for its master. Rashwe was apparently not prepared to let him out of his sight again and followed him over to the other two horses, somehow managing to project an air of happiness and slight reproach, as if scolding the elf that it had taken him so long to come back for them.  
  
Legolas looked at Aragorn's horse while he was undoing the cruel halter, his fury reaching new dimensions. He could understand to a certain degree what the men had done to his friends and him, even though he would never forget or forgive it. They had threatened them in a way, after all, but their horses had done no such thing. They were simply not used to be approached or touched by anyone but elves, but definitely were no threat to them.  
  
Sometimes he really despaired of humans, he thought as the halter came off, what they didn't understand they tried to destroy. What they didn't know they feared and hated, and what didn't bow to them and their standards they tried to break. It was in moments like these that he could understand the resentment and prejudices many other elves harboured for the second born, and why Aragorn had sometimes a hard time accepting that he was, after all, a man and therefore one of them.  
  
He gave the three animals a quick glance and moved on, only to stop when he realised that all of them were following him. Legolas shot them an exasperated glare, which the three of them ignored completely. They were not going to let the only elf they had seen for days get away from them now.   
  
He turned fully around, placing his good hand on Rashwe's neck, stroking it gently.  
"I am sorry, my friend," he told the horse which seemed to be listening attentively. "Where I must go now you cannot follow. I need you to get a little deeper into the forest and wait there for us. We will have need of your services before this is over."  
  
The white horse gave him a look so dark that, for a moment, Legolas could have sworn that Lord Elrond or Aragorn had taught it the _look _as well. But no, he decided after a moment, staring back at the animal, Aragorn was too afraid of it to come too closely and Lord Elrond had other things to do than that, although it might be the Lord of Rivendell's revenge for having to patch him up repeatedly…  
  
Finally, Rashwe snorted softly and nodded his gleaming head, and with a last, annoyed look in Legolas' direction the horse turned and trotted off into the wood, closely followed by the other two horses which didn't even give him a second glance either.  
  
Inwardly shaking his head and beginning to understand why Aragorn and his brothers had their little … problems with his horse, he began once again to move, thanking the Valar that the men had not posted a guard near their horses. But then again, they didn't have to. The dwarves were not very likely to steal their horses – for a fleeting moment the elven prince amused himself with a picture of a dwarf on a horse – and they thought that Aragorn and he were dead, so why should they bother?  
  
He forced his thoughts off that particular topic when he reached a large, dark tent that was standing at the far side of the camp, the tent where Legolas guessed Adruran's men kept their prisoners. A second later his suspicions were confirmed when he began to make his way around the tent and almost stumbled over a guard that was posted there at the entrance.   
  
Drawing back again before the man had the change to notice his presence in any way, the elf quickly looked about him, searching for something he could use to silence that guard. Silver-blue eyes lit up wickedly when they came to rest on a large stack of fire wood just next to the tent, and he stepped closer to grab a large, thick and rather hard-looking branch that was just the right size.  
  
Legolas moved soundlessly over the pristine snow that had fallen tonight and slowly stepped closer to the man, inwardly shaking his head at his incompetence. He was just standing there all the time, staring in the same direction without moving an inch; it was really quite unbelievable…  
  
With an inward shrug the elven prince brought the makeshift club down on the human's head, and couldn't stifle a grim smile of satisfaction when a soft, sharp crack could be heard, quite audibly to his elven ears. Legolas carefully bent down, relieved the man of his knives and sword and clumsily transferred them to his own belt, a cold sweat beading his brow when he righted himself again. Bending down was _not _a good idea, but he had hardly any other options, and so he quickly grabbed the unconscious human by the ankle and dragged him into the tent.  
  
Legolas turned quickly around and closed the front flap of the tent when the guard was fully inside, and when he looked back into the tent that was half-lit by a small, dying fire next to him, he looked into ten of the most astonished faces he had ever seen. Ten humans were sitting on the floor, hands bound and fixed to wooden poles, and stared at him as if he was an apparition right out of Minas Morgul.  
  
The elven prince noted with amusement that one or two of the men had been unable to stop their jaws from dropping and stared at him in open-mouthed surprise now. Not willing to lose any more time, he quickly knelt down next to the man closest to him and began to cut the ropes that secured him to the post. The man jerked away slightly from his touch, and Legolas looked up somehow startled, his slightly jumbled brain informing him that he should probably explain himself to them unless he wished to cause a mass panic.  
  
"I mean you no harm," he assured the men, trying to keep his voice level and as calm as possible. "My name is Legolas, I am a wood-elf from Mirkwood. Where is Gwemyr?"  
  
The man whose bonds he was just cutting looked at him in surprise.  
"You are the elf they killed yesterday?"  
  
"Yes," Legolas nodded and pressed a second knife into the human's hand, motioning him to start helping him to free his companions. "Or rather no. I am the elf they thought they had killed." He stopped for a second, moving onto the next man. "Where is Gwemyr?"  
  
"He is not here," one of the men provided quietly.  
  
The elf stopped in mid-motion. Were they already too late?  
"What do you mean, 'he is not here'? Is he dead?"  
  
"No," the man assured him quickly. "No, at least he wasn't this evening. He's still working at the mountain, for 'rebellious behaviour'."  
  
Legolas shook his head slightly as he freed the next of the men. He should have expected something like this from Owaeran's troublesome brother. The man he had freed first looked at him in suspicion and surprise.  
  
"Why do you help us, Master Elf? And why are you looking for Gwemyr?"  
  
"Master Gwemyr's brother is a … a friend of mine, and a valued trade partner of my liege," he explained, not interrupting his work. "We promised Master Owaeran we would bring his brother home. Besides," he lifted his head from where he had just cut free the last of the Lake-men, eyes frighteningly dark and hard in his face, "I have a score to settle with your hosts. But that will come later, first we have to get you out of here."  
  
The man snorted, and when the elf raised a quizzical eyebrow, he gave a lop-sided grin and explained.  
"If you'll forgive me, Master Legolas, but there is very little chance of us doing so. We are no fighters, and you…" The human paused and shrugged slightly. "Well, I don't know much about your kind, I'll give you that, but you are in no condition to fight twenty men on your own either, that much is clear."  
  
A part of Legolas agreed with that assessment, but another, stubborn and - as his father would say - slightly suicidal part shook its head unwillingly.  
  
"Fighting is not exactly an essential part of our plan," he said as he struggled to his feet, closing his eyes shortly when the tent turned suddenly upside-down. He should have known, he thought with an inward, irritated growl, this happened more and more frequently to him of late. Trying to pay the ground no attention that was where the tent's roof should rightly be, he turned back to the man, doing his best to listen to his words.  
  
"Our?" the man asked hopefully, his companions crowding behind him. "You are not alone?"  
  
Legolas looked at him, feeling rather sorry for having to destroy the man's hopes who actually seemed to think that there was an elven army waiting for a signal to strike. 'If only,' he thought longingly.  
"No, I am not. My companion is right now preparing a distraction that should buy us enough time to get out of here."  
  
The men's faces seemed to fall when they heard the singular form Legolas used, and their spokesman gave a rather weak smile.  
"I see."  
  
The elven prince studied the assembled men closely, trying to remember what had seemed wrong to him just a few moments ago. The dull pain that throbbed through his body with every heartbeat made it hard for him to concentrate, but finally he realised what had bothered him.  
  
"Where are the 'Fox's' men?" he asked, eyeing the humans suspiciously. "There should be at least six or seven here with you."  
  
Now it was the man's turn to look suspicious.  
"How do you know that?"  
  
Legolas gave a small, humourless smile, with one ear trying to listen to any unusual sounds that might indicate that someone was drawing closer to their position.  
"Oh, let's just say that a friend and I had a discussion with him a while ago. He was most forthcoming after some time."  
  
The smile was so dark and there was something so pained and grieving in the elf's eyes that the spokesman didn't even contemplate not answering the question.  
"They are dead. Some were killed when these men attacked us and some ran away." He swallowed quickly. "None of them escaped."  
  
The elven prince managed to stifle a small smile of satisfaction. Well, at least something he had wanted to do had been achieved, the men who had ambushed them had paid for it. He gave his rather unstable surroundings another look and resisted the urge to lecture the Lake-men that stood in front of him – looking very much like disobedient children – about how terrible stupid and naïve they had behaved, but before he could say something (which was probably rather good since he was having a rather hard time thinking of sensible things to say), his ears detected a sound that did not belong into a camp where most of the people should still be asleep: Shouting.  
  
The men looked at each other nervously and began to whisper among themselves, but Legolas held up a hand, listening attentively. His face turned from puzzled to serious to frightened in a matter of seconds, and the spokesman stepped closer to him, looking at him with wide, worried eyes.  
  
"Your distraction, Master Elf?"  
  
The elven prince turned back to him, silver-blue eyes huge and steely and his hand tightening on the handle of his knife.  
  
"No, Master Human. This was not what my companion was supposed to do. It appears," he stopped for a moment, listening to the commotion outside their tent and the surprised shouts that grew louder by the second, "that our plans have just gone astray."  
  
  
  
  
Aragorn moved as soundlessly as possible through the dark wood, already condemning their plan – if one could even call it that – to the deepest, most unpleasant dungeon of the Dark Lord. Legolas and he had separated half an hour ago, and he knew he would have to hurry if he wanted to have that distraction ready in time.  
  
All in all, he still thought their plan was essentially a good one – or it would have been a good one had both of them been healthy, or anything resembling that condition. Then it would have been even a very good plan, but in the condition both of them were in at the moment he would be happy if one of them accomplished his objective.  
  
That thought served to make him move faster. He would not be responsible for the failure of their little mission, besides, if he wasn't ready on time and there was nothing that diverted the men's attention when Legolas tried to get the Lake-men out of the camp…  
  
No, that thought was not even worth contemplating, he decided, beginning to climb the foothills of the mountain. Both Legolas and he knew that they were not strong enough to fight their way through the men to try and save Gwemyr and his friends, and therefore they had decided that someone or something would need to distract them. He had had a hard time convincing Legolas that he would go and think of something that would serve as a distraction, and the elf had only relented when Aragorn had pointed out that he couldn't move as soundlessly as Legolas and would be caught before he could even have reached the tent.  
  
The elf had lifted an incredulous eyebrow at that, but accepted his reasoning as sound, and by now Aragorn himself thought that this had been the truth. He was already panting and out of breath, and he seriously doubted that he would have been able to sneak into the humans' camp now, or any camp for that matter.  
  
The good thing with men though, the ranger mused as he tried to ignore his headache that was threatening to split his skull, was that they were rather predictable. No, make that _very _predictable, he added as an afterthought. These men were here for the treasure, and therefore it was highly predictable what would shock and distract them the most: Something that threatened their precious gold. They wouldn't be willing to let anything happen to it, and that made them very vulnerable.  
  
Aragorn shook his head in disgust, realising only a split second later what a terribly stupid thing that had been to do when his skull exploded in a new wave of pain. He needed water, he decided fuzzily, and he needed it soon, or he wouldn't be able to provide a distraction for his elven friend.  
  
After what felt like an eternity he finally reached a small plateau that was bare and empty, with nothing but snow to cover the frozen ground. Following the tracks that led to the right and closer to the rock face he rounded a rock that sharply protruded from the rock wall, and stopped and leaned against the cool surface to his left when his eyes fixed on the sight before him. The stone felt gloriously cool against his skin that really shouldn't feel this hot, and he had to wrench his thoughts away from the wonderful feeling by force.  
  
To the left of him, a few hundred yards away, there was a dark, looming opening in the rock face, about as high as a grown man and twice as wide. On the side he could see the pile of stones the men had removed, and a multitude of tracks led to the entrance and away again. There it was, the treasure, and he simply needed to do something that would alert the men and cause them to come rushing up here. Then he could make his way to the rendezvous point and meet with Legolas and the Lake-men, they could get to Erebor, inform King Dáin and King Bard and possibly get some anti-inflammatory herbs and then they could come back and kill the men for what they had done to his elven friends.  
  
Aragorn nodded, beginning to make his way over to the opening, moving rather unsteadily on his feet. That plan did sound very good to his ears, even though he was beginning to suspect that someone or something had kindled a roaring fire in his body. He didn't really know when or why, all he knew was that he was burning up, and the fire was spreading and beginning to infest his thoughts.  
  
A grin was beginning to spread on his flushed face. Fire … yes, that was a very good idea. Was there anything better than a nice fire to ensure Adruran's men's distraction? His mind busy with imagining various ways of setting something on fire up here, he drew nearer to the opening, and in his preoccupied state would almost have missed the raised voices to his right.  
  
His brain needed a few seconds to connect the voices to guards and danger, and he slipped into the shadows of the mountain as quickly as possible, shaking his head forcefully and clinging to the pain as something that would help him concentrate. Elbereth, he couldn't lose it now, Legolas depended on him, and it would be his fault if the elf got caught…  
  
The voices were still some distance away and Aragorn knew he should simply go on, make his way over to the caves, try to somehow kindle a fire and then get away from here as fast and far as humanly possible, but his plans turned to ashes when he heard the unmistakable sound of a whip that found flesh.  
  
"Faster, sluggard! Move faster or I will have to get Geran to help again!"  
  
At the mention of Geran's name, the man who had killed Celylith and shot Legolas, a red haze seemed to lay itself over the young ranger's vision, and he had a hard time stopping himself from rushing forward.  
  
A pain-filled moan could be heard, and a tired, weary voice spoke up that sounded resigned to its fate.  
"And what then? I know you are planning to kill us, I am no simpleton! Why should I help you get what we have worked so hard for?"  
  
Almost on their own account Aragorn's feet had moved, carrying him closer to the two men, and soon he found himself standing behind a large tree to the right of the cave entrance, wondering just how he had got there. He couldn't remember walking over to here, and it was now that he was really beginning to suspect that the infection just might have spread a little bit faster than either he or Legolas had anticipated. His thoughts were redirected to the scene in front of him though, and he blinked quickly to force his eyes to focus. A blonde man was lying on the ground, a large pack next to him that he had obviously been carrying up to where the treasure was. There were various bruises on his face, and the ranger's keen eyes could discern some slashes in his clothing that were undoubtedly due to the whip the man who stood over him held.  
  
Aragorn felt how his fury intensified again. That had to be one of the Lake-men, and the one holding the whip was one of Adruran's lieutenants, Bleon, if he remembered correctly. Bleon gave the man on the ground another almost playful blow, and bent closer to him, his voice soft in the night air.  
  
"Because I will have your friends punished for every single mistake you make from now on, understood?" When the blonde man wouldn't answer, he hit him again, more forceful this time. "Understood?"  
  
The man on the ground bit back a groan and nodded his head.  
"Yes."  
  
"Yes what?" the other man asked, twiddling the leather thong idly between his fingers.  
  
"Yes … sir," the blonde man added in an icy whisper, causing a smug grin to spread on Bleon's face.   
  
In retrospect, it was probably that grin more than anything else that caused Aragorn to act. He was already moving before he had even consciously made the decision to leave the protection of the tree behind, and quickly closed in on the two men that were entirely too focused on themselves to pay their surroundings much attention.   
He couldn't watch this happen to someone else, the ranger decided as he closed the snow covered distance between him and the men, moving more soundlessly than he had thought himself capable of at the moment. He couldn't leave this man behind and know that Bleon did to him what Geran had done to Legolas, he just couldn't. If he hurried, he would still have enough time to stage a distraction, but that smile had been the same Geran had given him while he had whipped his elven friend. He wouldn't leave anyone to this fate, and certainly not one of the people they had come to rescue in the first place.  
  
He was behind Bleon before the man had even noticed that there was anything wrong, and the next thing the other human knew was an arm that was laid round his neck and jerked his head backwards. The whip fell from his suddenly lifeless fingers as he tried to struggle, to somehow dislodge the iron hold that cut off his air, but his attacker's body was pressed right into his back and he couldn't reach him, no matter how hard he tried.  
  
Bleon's resistance died down quickly, and when Aragorn released his body a few minutes later, he dropped to the ground like a stone. The young ranger bent down to retrieve his weapons, making a mental note to report to his brothers that their stranglehold-technique worked just fine indeed, even in a real situation.  
  
He almost lost himself in rather amusing memories of the day the twins had taught him this particular skill and what their father had said when he had come across them by chance and had seen two barely conscious elven twins and a rather embarrassed and worried Estel, but a slight movement of the man on the ground brought him back to the present.  
  
The blonde man eyed him warily, as if trying to judge if Aragorn really wanted to help him.  
"Is he dead? Who are you? Why did you do that?"  
  
The younger man extended a hand and did his best to help him to his feet, almost causing both of them to topple over and land face first in the snow.  
"Well, my name is Strider; I am a Ranger of the North. Whether he is dead I do not know, and to be honest I do not care overly much either. And I did it because I would not want to see anyone suffer such ill treatment, not when I can prevent it."  
  
The other man gave him a taxing look before he nodded his head slowly.  
"Then I thank you, Strider. My name is Gwemyr, and I hail from Esgaroth."  
  
Aragorn raised an amused eyebrow. So this was Gwemyr, Master Owaeran's elusive little brother? He studied the man more closely, and really, if one knew what one was looking for there was indeed a family-likeness.  
  
He motioned for the man to follow him up the little path that led up to the mountain.  
"Your brother is very worried about you, Master Gwemyr."  
  
The blonde man stood as if rooted to the spot and grabbed Aragorn's arm, his eyes wide.  
"My brother? You know Owaeran? Is he well? What about my niece and my sister-in-law?"  
  
"They are fine," Aragorn tried to reassure the man, urgency beginning to fill his entire being. He needed to create that distraction soon, or all would be in vain and it would be his fault that Legolas and the rest of the Lake-men would be captured. "They are all fine, do not worry. And it is all a very, very long story, but we promised your brother to bring you home."  
  
Gwemyr shook his head in confusion and was about to ask more, but Aragorn interrupted him with a move of his hand.  
"No, Master Gwemyr, we do not have time to discuss anything right now. How many of your men are left in the camp?"  
  
"Ten," Gwemyr answered, eyeing the younger man curiously. He had heard a lot about rangers, of course, but this one looked … interesting, to say the least. More than anything else he was surprised at his youth and the quiet determination that emanated from him, even though he was beginning to realise that he was not well. First he hadn't noticed anything since Strider had overpowered the guard so quickly and effortlessly, but when he looked at him now, he was moving stiffer than usual for a man, and his bruised face looked unnaturally flushed as well. "Are you alright?" he added, feeling very stupid at the question. "What happened to you?"  
  
The other gave a wry grimace as they continued to move over to the opening as fast as possible.  
"No, I guess not," he admitted grimly. "But this is neither the time nor the place to change that, so I think it doesn't matter. And as to what happened," he grinned slightly, "let's just say that we enjoyed your hosts' 'hospitality' as well some time ago."  
  
"We?" Gwemyr asked, renewed hope shining in his eyes. "You have someone with you?" Before Aragorn could answer, a thought shot through the man, making him open his eyes as wide as possible. "My friends! We need to help them!"  
  
He was about to turn back to rush down the slope, but the young ranger caught his sleeve just in time.  
"No!" He jerked the sleeve he held impatiently, beginning to curse this man and his impulsiveness. "My friend is down in the camp and freeing them as we speak. What we need to do is create a diversion so he and your companions can escape."  
  
"What did you have in mind?" Gwemyr asked, curiously.  
  
"Well," Aragorn began, stopping shortly to cock his head to the side. He could have sworn that he had heard something… He tried to listen more closely, but his head was swimming and he couldn't concentrate very well. He shook his head and continued, noting with relief that they were no more than ten yards away from the opening now. "I thought about setting the cave over there on fire."_  
  
"On fire?"_ Gwemyr hissed and grabbed his arm, letting go again quickly when he noticed the grimace of pain that flashed over the ranger's face. "Are you mad? Do you know how much gold is in there? I haven't worked so hard to let you destroy all of that now!"  
  
Aragorn gritted his teeth and took a deep breath, ignoring the pain in his cracked ribs. He would never, ever understand men, he decided. He had perhaps really lived too long with the firstborn for that; he would never understand what it was about gold and money that justified this kind of behaviour.  
  
He lifted his head and pierced Gwemyr with a hard, contemptuous look.  
"You? Worked hard? You obtained the information from pair of young, drunk dwarves! Dwarves that were killed by your business partner because of what they knew! Wasn't it so?"  
  
Gwemyr blanched and averted his eyes under the burning glare.  
"They said it was an accident…"  
  
"And you believed that? You knew perfectly well it was not an accident, you simply chose to accept it as true! You and your men have brought Erebor and Dale to the brink of war, are responsible for the death of one of my friends and the fact that my best friend will need several weeks to sufficiently recover from what these men here have done to him, if he ever fully recovers, that is, and all that for nothing more than _money_, and then you dare lecture me on what and what not to do with that accursed treasure that brought so much death and suffering to so many people?? Are you really willing to trade your friends' lives for gold?"  
  
"I … I didn't mean it like that…" the other man began to stammer, but Aragorn cut him off again.  
  
"Please, spare me that," he shook his head, his mind already on the task ahead. There were some barrels piled up at the entrance of the cave, but also some wood, and the struts that supported the ceiling looked quite dry, too…  
  
Gwemyr once again opened his mouth to argue, but before he could say anything, a loud shout could be heard some distance away, closely followed by the sound of running feet that quickly drew closer to their position. Aragorn cursed under his breath and drew Bleon's sword from his belt, quickly reaching out and pressing one of the daggers into the other man's hand. He had known he had heard something, he thought furiously, tightening his grip on the sword and doing his best to get his breathing under control. He should have hidden Bleon, why had he forgotten something as simple as that? Sudden nausea swept over him and that was the point when he realised that he wouldn't be able to do what he had promised, namely to fulfil his part of their plan, and most likely wouldn't be able to do the other thing he had promised either, namely to come back alive.  
  
Listening to the footsteps that quickly drew closer, he asked,  
  
"Do you know how to fight?"  
  
Gwemyr who was still eyeing the dagger that had been shoved into his hands as if it might turn into a snake and bite him looked up, startled.  
"Of course!"   
  
Aragorn turned and gave him a long look.   
"Well, maybe not really," the blonde man amended. He returned his eyes to the dagger he clumsily held. "But I know how to use one of these – I think."  
  
"Ah," the young ranger made faintly, his estimated chances of survival dropping about sixty percent at that admission. He set his jaw as he came to a decision. There was no need for both of them to die, after all.   
  
"Go."  
  
"What?" Gwemyr hissed, looking at him unbelievingly. "I cannot leave you here!"  
  
"Yes, you can," Aragorn retorted, eyes fixed on the path in front of them. Any second now they would be here, and he didn't have to guess who 'they' would be. "I will keep them busy for as long as possible. I need you to hide until they are gone and then to set the cave on fire." He turned and looked the other man in the eye, silver eyes hard and flinty. "You have to do it, or neither my friend nor your companions will escape alive. Do you understand?"  
  
The blonde man averted his eyes under his _look_, and finally nodded.   
"Alright, Mr. Strider. But…"  
  
"No time for that!" Aragorn ground out, hearing that the men were very close now. "You have to go, _now_!"  
  
Gwemyr gave him a last, long look before he turned and disappeared round a huge stone that partly lay on the path that led away from the cave, leaving Aragorn behind. The young ranger shifted his stance slightly, knowing full well that he was in no condition to fight, besides, there was not really a reason to. He couldn't escape anyway, not if he was correct and there were at least two men coming up the path. He studied the slowly lightening sky in the East, suddenly wishing that the sun would rise. It wouldn't make much of a difference, but he had the feeling that he had spent the past few days in a dark abyss and would have done everything to see the giant disk make her way across the heavens once more.  
  
Before he could dwell longer on that subject, three men came into view, quickly leaving the small forest behind where he had found Gwemyr.  
"Hey! There he is! Get him!"  
  
Aragorn had neither the strength nor the inclination to run, and so he simply stood his ground, trying to ignore the complaints his increasingly hot body was beginning to send to his brain. Time seemed to slow and then suddenly to accelerate, since the men who had been several hundred feet away were suddenly in front of him, even thought it felt to him as if only a second had passed. He had little time to think about that, for he had to move to the side to avoid being cut into two. The young ranger did his best to block the blows that were raining down on him, but he seemed to have lost the ability to move quickly and surely, and soon the hilt of a sword hit him into the side of his neck, causing him to crash to the ground with no time to break his fall.  
  
He didn't even have time to lift his head before he felt two pairs of hands on his upper arms, digging sharply into bruised and cut skin, and he was jerked to his feet. A hand grasped his chin and pulled his head up, and Aragorn looked into the very last face he wanted to see right now: Geran's.  
  
The man grinned at him, a grin full of menace and anticipation. He shook his head in amusement and astonishment, the grin only widening.  
  
"I don't believe it," he said, turning his captive's face to the side to inspect the large bruise he had put there a day ago, as if to make sure he was really who he thought him to be. "If that's not the ranger that should be dead now." His grip tightened, and he looked into Aragorn's fever-bright eyes. "Where is the Lake-man? How did you escape? Is the elf still alive as well?"  
  
The younger man simply looked back at him, a stubborn expression on his face. He hadn't told this man what he wanted to know the last time, and he would be damned if he betrayed his elven friend to him now.  
  
Geran didn't seem too disappointed by his reaction, for he simply shook his head, motioning to the men to bind their captive and take his weapons. He nodded at one of his men.  
"You. Look for the other one, he can't have got far. Bring him back to the camp once you find him."  
  
The other man just finished securing the ranger's hands behind his back, and he smiled slightly as he stepped closer and grabbed one of his now bound arms.  
"Let's get back to camp, shall we?" he asked friendly, tightening his hold on the other's arm and beginning to drag him down the path, not caring in the slightest if the ranger managed to stay on his feet or not. "I have to say I underestimated you and your little elven friend the last time, even though I have to say that it was somewhat sloppy to leave the dear Bleon behind just like that. All the better for me though, so I am not too disappointed. But do you know what I think?"  
  
Geran inserted a small, dramatic pause, his whole face practically glowing.   
  
"I think the elf is still alive as well. I think he got you out of that little cave – although I must say I could not say how – unless you bandaged yourself just like this, which I doubt, by the way. No," he grinned at his pale captive who had his eyes closed now, wholly concentrated on keeping up with Geran and not to fall flat on his face, "I think your little elven friend is somewhere close by." He grinned evilly, eyes cold and lifeless. "And I know just how to get him to come to us, ranger. I don't think he will be able to refuse."  
  
Aragorn tried to block out his words, tried to concentrate on walking instead, but every word Geran said cut through his heart like the steel of a blade. Valar, he knew, he knew that Legolas was here, and if he ever got his hands on him again… No, he thought in sudden, wild determination, he would not let this man get near his friend again, he would not!   
  
The second man Geran had had with him had run ahead to inform the camp of their arrival, and while he was being dragged down the path by Geran's steely hands and listened to the shouts that rang through the once quiet camp, Aragorn began to realise that there was nothing he could do to prevent just that, and that it would be he who would condemn his friend to torment and death, unwilling as it may be.  
  
  
  
  
Legolas was very close to strangling himself. How could he have been so stupid, how could he have been so thoughtless? Of course Estel had been caught, he should have known he would be! Why had he believed him when he had said that he was more or less alright? It wasn't that he didn't have confidence in the ranger's ability to protect himself, but he had once again forgotten to take into account that he was a human, and not of the elven race. He should have known that the infection would spread more rapidly than it would have done in an elven body, and that that in combination with the blood loss and dehydration would make the young man weak and unable to defend himself.  
  
Now here he was, standing at the shadowed entrance of the tent and watching the person he wanted to kill more than anything else on Arda drag his best friend down the steep, snowy path that led down the mountain. From what he could see Aragorn was not in a good shape, and he looked much worse than when they had parted nearly two hours ago. His face seemed to be red in the one second and white in the next, and Legolas suspected that he would have swayed and fallen had Geran not gripped his arm tightly.   
  
"Sir? Master Elf?"  
  
The frightened voice of one of the men behind him drew him back from his thoughts, and he turned, giving the small figure of his friend that was still several hundred yards away from the camp a last look. He quietly studied the humans in front of him, deciding in a split second that none of them were warriors. Even if they were willing to help him – which he doubted somehow, since the majority looked scared out of their minds – he didn't think that they would be of much use to him.  
  
"Master Human," he addressed the spokesman of the group, quiet urgency in his voice, "I need you to get your men out of here. Now."  
  
"But … but your friend…"  
  
"Everybody is concentrated on the other side of the camp," he ignored the objection, "and that should be distraction enough to make your way away from here undetected. Try to cover your tracks as best as possible or find some place to hide, for the sun will rise soon and make it easier for eventual pursuers."  
  
"You are not coming with us?" the man asked, alarmed. "Where should we go?"  
  
"Dale," Legolas replied, deciding that the town was probably closer than the Lonely Mountain. Besides, he wouldn't expect anynone to go and ask the dwarves for help if there was any other option left. "King Bard is informed of the situation and will know what to do. I will stay here and see what I can do to help my friend." He turned back to the entrance, making sure with a quick look that there was no-one watching the tent, but he wouldn't have needed to worry: Every man was at the other side of the camp, staring at the prisoner Geran had made and shouting questions to one another which none of them could answer. "You need to go. Please, go now."  
  
The man simply nodded and ushered his men out of the tent, telling them to make for the woods that were but a few yards to the left of the tent. He stopped before he himself exited the tent, looking at the fair haired elf and nodding his head in gratitude.  
"We owe you a great deal, Master Legolas. We will come back with help as soon possible."  
  
Legolas gave him a quick smile, noticing that Geran and Aragorn had reached the main fireplace by now and were talking to Adruran, or rather, Geran was talking to Adruran, an especially smug expression on his face while Aragorn stared into nothing. He seriously doubted that the humans would be able to come back before these men had killed both of them, but there was no reason to tell him that.  
  
"It was my pleasure, Master Human. Just don't get caught and it will have been worth it."  
  
The man inclined his head again, and with one last look at his saviour he turned around and followed his men into the small wood, probably thanking Eru that he had got out this alive – for now.   
  
Legolas turned back into the direction of the main fireplace, trying to see what was going on. It was rather hard since his surroundings still seemed to blur together once in a while, something he knew was his body's way of informing him that he needed to rest, soon, or it would make sure of it itself by slipping into unconsciousness. 'A plan,' he thought desperately, 'I need a plan. Now.'  
  
Fact was, however, that his options were sadly limited. He couldn't fight all of them, that would have been near impossible even if had he been healthy. He couldn't leave Aragorn behind either, which was not a thought worth pursuing. There was no way he would leave his human friend in Hanar's and Geran's hands, not while he was still drawing breath. The only slight advantage he held were their horses, even though that was something most people, including Aragorn and his brothers, would rather have described as a disadvantage. He knew that they, and especially Rashwe, were capable of wreaking some havoc, and it might give them enough time to escape, somehow, even though it would place all of them in considerable danger…  
  
"Elf! I know you can hear me!!"  
  
Legolas looked up a little bit startled, realising after a moment that they probably meant him, unless there was another elf somewhere around here, which he seriously doubted, even though it was a rather nice idea… The elven prince had to tear his thoughts away from the very nice ideas of what he would do if he had an elven warrior to watch his back and redirected his attention to the situation at hand.   
  
He carefully stepped out of the tent and moved closer to the main fire place, and while he was still slowly moving around another tent, the voice sounded again, and this time Legolas could identify it as Geran's, wondering why he hadn't recognised it the first time.  
  
"Master Elf! I know you are here, you wouldn't leave your little ranger friend alone, now would you?" A muffled grunt could be heard, followed by a dull thud when something heavy hit the ground. "I'm sure you already know that we have your friend here! He doesn't look too good!"  
  
Legolas took two steps forward, only to freeze in his tracks, luckily covered by a large, snow covered bush that grew next to the tent he had just rounded, still about a hundred feet from the fireplace. Gathered in front of him stood the men, in front of them Adruran, who looked thoroughly annoyed by now, and his red haired lieutenant, and in front of _them _stood Geran, towering over the figure of his human friend who was lying in the snow and slowly trying to push himself onto his knees.  
  
Geran bent down to his prisoner, grabbing him by his now wet shirt.  
"Call for your friend, ranger. Let him know you require his assistance."  
  
Aragorn raised his head with an obvious effort and gave the slightly older man a stare so cold that it should have frozen him on the spot, making unambiguously clear that he intended to do no such thing. Geran simply smiled and nodded at Hanar who stood on the ranger's other side, who in turn drew back and, after aiming carefully, delivered a kick to the young man's ribcage, right to his burnt side.  
  
Legolas closed his eyes and swallowed hard at the choked cry of pain his friend couldn't hold back, and only heard dimly what Geran said next, a sneer in his voice.   
  
"You hear that, elf? It can get much worse for him yet! He just killed Bleon, so most of the men are a tiny bit upset with him at the moment! You have a minute to show yourself!"  
  
The fair haired elf opened his eyes again, silver-blue orbs fixed on the doubled over body of the young ranger. Aragorn wouldn't be able to withstand such treatment for long, not weakened that he already was. He could only hope to stall as long as possible to give the man some time to regain his strength, and then hope that they could escape with the help of their horses. It was a faint, desperate hope, and the elf knew that all of them would most likely die today, but he wouldn't go without trying.  
  
He quickly moved closer to the fireplace, careful to keep himself hidden, aiming for a spot that would allow him to face all of the men – that way at least his back would be covered, which was better than nothing. Not much, but a little. Now only a few yards away from his friend and his captors, he began to hastily unwrap the bandages that kept his arm secured to his chest, but decided to leave the actual bandage in place, the one that was wrapped around the splints his human friend had strapped to the appendage. He winced slightly when he moved his arm to the side, trying to suppress Aragorn's voice who had warned him to do exactly that. But he didn't have any other option now; he could hardly buy them some time when he conveyed the impression that he was an easy target.  
  
He was still busy with this when he heard another kick connect with flesh, closely followed by a low moan of pain that was quickly bitten off.  
"Master Elf! I grow impatient! Have you truly so little sympathy for your friend here?"  
  
Legolas took a deep breath and sent a fervent prayer to Ilúvatar before he left the cover of the tent and stepped out into the open. Bluffing. He could do that, he had done it with the twins for ages before Aragorn had entered their lives and evened the odds a little…  
  
"You wouldn't understand the meaning of friendship even if one spelt it out for you, Geran."  
  
Geran's eyes lit up when they fixed on the elf, a happy grin beginning to spread over his face. O the Gods, he was still alive, he really _was _lucky… He turned back to the men behind him and resisted saying "I told you so!" when he saw Adruran's annoyed face. The older man didn't look happy at all, a small voice in his head supplied, but he pushed it aside. Who cared if his captain was unhappy when he had his elf back?   
  
He was about to give the men behind him a sign to seize the elf when he heard a hard, emotionless voice speak up.  
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."  
  
He turned back to the fair haired elf, an eyebrow raised in amusement.  
"Oh? And why not? You are clearly injured, Master Elf, so what would keep me from doing with you as I please? You cannot fight us!"  
  
The elf didn't appear to be intimidated at all and even took a lazy step forward, his right hand drawing nonchalant patterns in the cold air.  
"You really think we came here without a backup plan? You really think we came unprepared?" A wide grin spread over his face and he began to chuckle. "How stupid do you think we are?"  
  
Aragorn who had shut his eyes in despair when his elven friend had entered the small space opened them again and only just stopped his jaw from dropping. What was Legolas talking about? They _had _been that stupid, and their plans had failed. They had nothing left now.  
  
Legolas gave his friend a warning look, hoping with all his heart the young ranger was still lucid enough to play along. A thoughtless word would mean both their deaths now.  
"No," he continued, not willing to give his feverish friend the opportunity to speak and ruin his little charade. "Since you like playing with people so much, we thought we'd start as well."  
  
The mirth seemed to disappear from Geran's face, and the young man narrowed his eyes, studying the bloody, cut and bruised form of the elf more closely.  
"What?"  
  
Adruran gave a short, but obviously heartfelt curse, dividing his attention between his lieutenant and Legolas.  
"I do not enjoy being toyed with, elf. I thought we had established that!"  
  
The fair haired elf merely arched an eyebrow at that, giving the captain a short, furtive look.  
"And neither do we, human. But since your subordinate seems to enjoy it so much, we figured that you would as well. Oh, but we … decided to make everything a bit more interesting, so to speak."  
  
Geran just looked at him in a mixture of suspicion and surprise, and motioned Hanar to get the ranger to his feet, which the other man did only to willingly, jerking Aragorn upright by his bound arms. The younger man suppressed a moan and closed his eyes, concentrated on figuring out what was going on around him. With a tremendous effort he pushed the confusion and light-headedness back, forcing himself to think. Legolas was acting as if he had a plan, and, who knew, perhaps he had indeed. But he didn't know that Gwemyr had escaped, so what was he planning? The young ranger almost gave a short, derisive snort. He had no faith whatsoever in the Lake-man's abilities to avoid capture, and even if he did manage to escape, there was no telling if he would do what he had told him…  
  
He was still pondering this when he felt Geran step closer to him, and he suppressed a shudder that seemed to race across his back instinctively. He was beginning to really, really dislike this particular human. The other man grabbed him by his hair and forced his head back, pressing a dagger against his neck.  
"Enough now, elf! Speak plainly, or I will cut his throat! What are you talking about?"  
  
Legolas simply gave him a glare hotter than Orodruin's fires themselves, but only partly to experience the satisfaction of making the man avoid his eyes. Mainly it was to buy himself some more time, since he had absolutely no idea where he was going with this.  
  
"Do it and you will never hear another word from me!" the elven prince spat, his eyes fixed on the knife that was being pressed against his human friend's neck. "If you hurt him, I swear by the all the Valar that you will never see one bit of that precious gold you have killed, betrayed and lied for! I can destroy it and all of you by lifting only one hand!" He forced himself to take his eyes off his friend's pale face and to fix them on Geran instead. "You like to live dangerously, don't you? Well then, how much are you willing to risk? A third of the treasure? More? All of it? Your life as well? Then, by all means, injure the ranger further and find out if I speak the truth or not!"   
  
Geran seemed quite inclined to put the matter to the test, but it became clear that Legolas had assessed the men's characters correctly when Adruran stepped forward, sporting an expression that reminded the elf eerily of his father before he lost his temper.  
"Put down the knife, Geran," he ground out between gritted teeth, apparently very close to strangling the other man. "You forget your place."  
  
The younger man didn't turn to look at his captain, his eyes on the elf that was standing in front of them with an almost tranquil expression on his face that did not reflect his state of mind in the slightest. Legolas' eyes were fixed on his friend who looked at the elven prince past Geran's hand that still held the dagger to his neck, silver eyes clouded and filled with pain and confusion. The elf tried to convey an idea of his plans without words and looked hard at the man, urging him to be ready, to stay focused, but his friend's eyes were too glazed and unfocused to tell if he had understood what the prince had been trying to say.  
  
All this took only a second, and Geran shook his head unwillingly, his hand tightening on the knife's hilt.  
"No. No, he's bluffing, just like the last time. He has nothing, no plan, no reinforcements, nothing."  
  
"That might very well be," Adruran agreed impatiently in an icy voice, grabbing the man's wrist and pushing it down, away from his captive's neck. "Yet it is not your decision to make. This treasure belongs to our lord, and you will not risk it like this."   
  
He turned back to the elf who was still eyeing them with a sort of detached interest. "But it is my decision, Master Elf. I happen to agree with my lieutenant: You are stalling. I do not know why, or for what you are waiting, but I am thoroughly tired of it now. I will end this now, something which I should have done long ago!"  
  
Adruran turned, and a second before he gave his men the sign to seize him, Legolas realised that this was it. They were calling his bluff, and Geran was right: He had nothing. Aragorn didn't look any stronger than before, and he had no way to get them out of this, no reinforcements, no elven army, only three injured horses that would only get killed with them. A few men were detaching themselves from the group and were quickly coming his way, although everything seemed to happen in slow motion to the elven prince.   
  
He smiled slightly at his human friend, feeling nothing but regret that it had to end this way. Aragorn did not return the smile, and the man's eyes grew wide when he saw the almost weary acceptance in the elf's gaze. Legolas was apparently willing to give the men the fight they wanted, but he did not expect them to make it out of this alive. Deep down he knew that he should feel alarmed and frightened, but he was simply too tired and exhausted to really care. But still, if Legolas wasn't going without a fight, then neither was he, he thought defiantly, straightening his aching body.  
  
Aragorn tried in vain to escape Geran's grip as he watched his elven friend open his mouth as if to call or whistle for someone when the men that were trying to take him captive were only a few feet away from him, but before Legolas could utter a single sound, a loud, sharp, deafening shout could be heard, yelled by many strong, dark voices._  
  
"Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd aimênu!"_  
  
The sun chose this moment to rise in the East, appearing above the horizon in all her glory and bathing the lands in a brilliant light, almost blinding in its intensity.  
  
Aragorn noted that the men and even his friend had frozen in surprise at the sudden interruption, and he smiled, staring at the radiant disk that illuminated the heavens with her light, chasing away the dark gloom of the night.  
  
The dwarves had come after all.  
  
  
  
  
  
**TBC...  
  
  
  
  
  
** _ada - father (daddy)  
mellonamin - my friend  
Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd aimênu! (Khuzdul) - Axes of the Dwarves! The Dwarves are upon you!  
  
  
  
  
  
_***grin evilly* Well, well, well ... at least the dwarves did arrive, right? That's something! *her alter ego rubs hands gleefully* Mhahahaha! Cliffy! *shakes head* Sorry about that, but I couldn't resist! You didn't really expect me not to put a cliffy here, did you? No, I guess not... Okay, the next chapter should be here on Wednesday, I think, and, finally, Hanar, Geran and their Merry Men are getting what they deserve! I know: About bloody time! *g*** **What about a small review to encourange me?! Please? Reviews help me to get the chapters out more or less on time! Honestly!! *g***  
  
  
  


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**Additional A/N:  
  
I am very sorry, guys, but I really don't have time to reply to your WONDERFUL, AMAZING, BRILLIANT reviews today. We are having a small family crisis at the moment, and I don't think I would increase my popularity if I spent a few hours in front of the computer instead of talking about ... well, things that cannot be changed anyway. *sighs* Gosh, I hate it sometimes...  
  
But really, I would probably find a steak knife in my laptop tomorrow morning if I'd stay here for much longer, and then I couldn't post the next bit! See? It's for your own good.. *g*   
  
Thank you very, very much for all your reviews, you have probably no idea how much they do in fact encourage me. Without them I would have given up on these obstinate characters a long time ago! I promise I will reply to the next lot on Wednesday, I do! We swearsss it on the precioussss! *g*  
  
Thanks so much for all your support, and I hope you understand!**  
  
  
  



	25. The Games We Play

**Disclaimer:** For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.  
  
  
**A/N:  
  
*huggles readers* You guys are all sooooo sweet! Thanks a lot for your understanding, the family crisis is indeed solved. It was just one of these annoying things when everybody sits down and talks about things that won't change any time in the near future anyway, so the whole thing was futile in the first place. *sighs* But the things one does for one's family...  
  
Okay, to the really important thing. Many of you have asked why the heck the stupid elf and ranger do not just eat snow when they're thirsty. Well, that was a question I asked myself, so I in turn asked a friend of mine who's studying medicine. So, apparently, the worst thing one can do when one is in a situation like our heroes, that is dehydrated but also in the danger of catching hypothermia, is to eat snow, because it lowers the body temperature even more and the body needs to use a lot of energy to melt the snow so you can swallow it in the first place.** **If you have the means to melt it over a fire or something, fine, even though you need to melt a lot of snow to even get a little water, but Legolas and Aragorn had nothing they could have melted it in, so that wasn't an option either. *shrugs* That's what my friend said, and since a lot of people pointed that out, I'd thought I'd let you know what was going on in that twisted little brain of mine when I put that in. *g*  
  
LOL, Geran is indeed an idiot! (I put a mild term in here, this is only PG-13 after all! *g*) And yes, he even shows sign of over-possessiveness (that's a Gollum-word! Lots of 's'!), but believe me, he will get what is coming to him, as will Hanar and all of Adruran's men. I know, _finally_.**  
  
**A last thing: Quite a few people have asked if I was planning to write a sequel to this, and I can happily announce that yes, I am. *g* I have a vague idea what it's supposed to be about, so never fear, I will not abandon you after the next chapter, which is unfortunately already the last of this story. *sobs* Very, very sad, I know.  
  
  
Alright, enough talking, on to the chapter! There may be only one other left after this, but do not despair, for we have ... lots of death and destruction ... pain ... angst ... drama ... revenge ... so, all the good things, right? *g* Oh, and it's _way_ too long again - I stopped counting at 28 pages, so... *sobs* Why can't I make them stop!? Why?? *g*  
  
Have fun and review, please!**  
  
  
  


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Chapter 25  
  
  
The call that seemed to have paralysed the entire camp still rang through the cold air, showing no signs of abating. The men stood as if rooted to the spot and were simply not capable of understanding what the strange shout in this guttural language meant, and when the first ones finally began to realise what was happening, it was already too late to prepare themselves.  
  
Only Adruran, Tiddryr and a handful of the other men had managed to draw their swords and turn even halfway around when a troupe of dwarven warriors slammed into them with the force of a charging mountain troll.  
  
Legolas watched the small beings attack the humans, his elven reflexes allowing him to tear himself out of his trance-like state sooner. In his case it hadn't been so much that he'd been surprised that someone had saved them from what had looked like a hopeless situation, it had been the fact of _who _had saved them. It might be true that the elven prince had no interest whatsoever in the dwarves, their customs and their language except their swearwords, but even he knew the dwarven battle yell when he heard it, especially when it was screamed as loudly as now.  
  
The dwarves. Had come to save them.  
  
The idea was so strange that it was almost ridiculous. How had they got here? How had they known what was happening? Why had they come in the first place?  
  
The elf was still trying to find answers to these questions when the first dwarf appeared in his line of vision, waving his axe about his head and still yelling at the top of his lungs. For a few seconds, all Legolas could do was stare, fully expecting him to disappear in front of his eyes in a small cloud of smoke. There was simply no reasonable explanation for the small being's presence here, nor for the presence of his companions that were emerging from the wood in the humans' backs now. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate them being here, he just couldn't understand why they were.  
  
Legolas' confusion lasted considerably shorter than the men's, and he jumped into action before even Adruran had drawn his blade. He didn't really know what was happening here, but he did know that this offered them a much better chance than Rashwe and the other horses could have provided them with – they might get out of this alive after all.  
  
With a motion quicker than the human eye could follow he reached for the sword at his side and drew it, noticing with some concern that his movements were a lot slower and more awkward than he could remember them being for a long time. His back sent waves of pain through his entire body with every incautious move he made, but unfortunately you didn't have the luxury of choosing what to do and when to do it in a swordfight, and that was exactly what he found out a few seconds later.  
  
He had reacted a moment before than the humans that had been rushing up to him, but it hadn't been long enough to surprise all of them. The first two fell to the ground before they even had had the time to turn back around fully, but the other two whirled around in time to face him once they had seen that the dwarves were right now occupied with the rest of their companions.  
  
Legolas gritted his teeth when his strike he had aimed at one of the men's shoulder was blocked and he himself pushed back, and due to his weakened state he wasn't able to stand his ground and forced to give way. He ducked just in time to avoid the other man's sword that would have taken his head off had he remained where he'd been, and quickly straightened himself again, cursing under his breath as pain exploded across his senses at the rapid movement.  
  
While he was fending off the two humans, he used his still superior speed to buy himself some time to have a quick look around. Since the dwarves' yell had surprised the camp, barely half a minute had gone by, but the picture that greeted him now could not have been more different from the one thirty seconds ago. Everywhere seemed to be groups of fighting men and dwarves, and while the smaller beings had the superior numbers, the men resisted with the strength and determination of those who had everything to lose. The dwarves were still busy with the men that had stood closest to the wood, and it appeared that this situation wouldn't change any time soon either, judging by the ferocity the humans displayed.  
  
Somewhere in the middle were Adruran and Tiddryr, shouting orders and encouragements to their men which didn't really seem to help; if anything, the men's actions became more chaotic and unordered by the second when the last bit of a formation disappeared and every man fought for himself.   
  
Legolas' eyes though were not interested in the men, not even in the dwarves that had just popped out of the ground, for they quickly travelled over the groups of fighting people, searching, and while he was countering a manoeuvre of the one of his attackers that was still left, he found what he had been looking for: Geran who still held his human friend by the arm, who in turn was squirming and trying with all his might to shake the older man's hands off, without much success however.   
  
Aragorn's desperate face was more than enough encouragement for the elf, and with a burst of strength he didn't know he possessed he side-stepped his adversary and let the man rush past him, slamming the hilt of his sword against his skull as he passed him. The human dropped to the ground senseless, but before his body had even come to a full stop, Legolas was already moving on, alternatively pushing his way through the combatants and skilfully avoiding them. He almost stopped when he saw King Dáin's face who was surrounded by a troupe of dwarves that appeared vaguely familiar and who was just ducking from under a blow someone had aimed at his head, looking as if he was thoroughly enjoying himself, but he opted against it, deciding that he could talk to the dwarven king later, if both of them managed to survive, that was. Otherwise he would never see him again, which wasn't that bad an idea either.  
  
Legolas shook his head, drawing ever closer to where Geran and his friend were. That wasn't really true, he owed the dwarf king his life and that of Aragorn, and that wasn't something he would forget quickly. Unless the dwarf did something truly unforgivable, such as write his father about what had happened here.  
  
The elven prince suppressed a wince and stumbled to the side to avoid the impending collision with a human that was backing away from two dwarves that were pressing in on him. O Ilúvatar, if his father ever found out about even a third of what had happened here he was dead…  
  
All thoughts of his father were quickly driven from his mind when Legolas spied an opening in the circle of the men that surrounded Geran and his prisoner, and he pushed the pain in his body aside, moving quicker than he had thought himself able to right now. With two or three large strides Legolas had broken through the men's lines, and since a few dwarven warriors followed suit, unwilling to let this opportunity pass them by, he managed to get to Geran without being overly hindered.  
  
The man looked up, apparently highly surprised to the elf, his brown eyes growing wide as he turned around to face him. That was the moment Aragorn had been waiting for, and, gathering all his strength, he slammed his body against Geran's side, making him stumble and automatically release his arm.   
  
While the other man still sought to regain his balance, he took a few quick steps to the side and flashed his elven friend a quick smile before falling to his knees next to the downed body of a man, grabbing his knife and trying to free himself of his bonds.  
  
Geran shook his head and straightened himself again, but before he could move to regain control of his captive, a shadow fell across his face, and he looked up to see into the steely, hard eyes of the elf that was standing in front of him, having moved between his friend and the other man.  
  
"You don't want him," Legolas said quietly, drawing the knife he had taken from the guard with his left, unable to keep his face emotionless as pain flared to life. A Elbereth, now he knew why Aragorn had insisted that he kept his arm immobile! But if he could redirect some of Geran's attention from his sword arm to his left, he was more than willing to deal with the pain every slight movement brought. He wasn't entirely sure if he could beat Geran on his own, considering the way the world was beginning to softly spin around a random axis, and every small advantage was welcome.  
  
"You never wanted him," he continued, moving slightly to the right to shield the young human from Geran's eyes. "This is about me and my kind, is it not?"  
  
Geran looked at him, an almost feral gleam in his eyes as he drew his dagger with his left as well.  
"It was truly a shame your elven friend died so soon. Be assured, it was an accident. Had I had my way, I would have hunted both of you – and I would have gone down that cliff as well. I knew you weren't dead, elf."  
  
The man slowly moved to the side, beginning to circle the elf, who in turn was forced to move into the other direction to keep the distance between them. Legolas looked at the young man, hatred swirling in his eyes that were bright with suppressed physical and mental pain.  
"Yet you did not. That was a mistake, human."  
  
"We'll see," Geran retorted, consciously forcing his adversary to move away from the main fight. He wouldn't allow anyone to interrupt this, no, he had waited far too long for it. He didn't care anymore if they were overrun by dwarves, if their mission was failed for good or if all his companions were killed here and now – all that mattered was this fight, this opportunity to finally kill an elf. "This is not over yet."  
  
The fair haired elf's eyes lit up, grief shortly appearing in his gaze before it was replaced by determination and an overwhelming fury.  
  
"No," Legolas agreed, his voice soft and deadly, yet clearly audible since they had moved quite a way away from the main fire place where the majority of the men and dwarves were fighting. "It is not."   
  
He looked the man in the eye and gave him a small, grim smile as he raised his sword in front of his body, bringing it into a ready position.  
  
"You like games, do you not? Let's play then."  
  
  
  
  
The soft muttering that emanated in a constant stream from the young ranger's mouth was drowned out by the noise of the fighting beings all around him. The only one that could have heard him was the man next to him – who was dead, so there were no witnesses to his outburst, and that was probably quite a good thing.   
  
Most of the things Aragorn mumbled under his breath as he tried to free his wrists were not complimentary, and he insulted in turn the dagger he awkwardly held, the ropes that secured his hands behind his back, Geran's character, Geran's ancestors, Geran's existence in general, the invisible maniac that was located behind his brow and was right now jamming red-hot pokers into his brain, the fire that raged in his body and about a thousand other things in between.  
  
He had never known that a dagger could be so slippery, he decided when the weapon in question escaped his weak grasp once more. Then again, he had never before tried to cut bonds behind his own back either, feeling at the same time as if Mount Doom had relocated right into his body.  
  
The young man barely noticed that he cut himself – again – when the knife refused to be turned the exact angle he wanted to turn it. He dimly thought that he was probably beginning to look like someone who had repeatedly tried to commit suicide, and with a dull paper knife at that. If his father saw him like this, there would be trouble…  
  
The bonds chose this moments to finally give way, and with a last curse questioning Geran's parentage he jerked his hands forward, wincing slightly when he felt blood return to the numbed fingers.   
Letting go of the inexplicably slippery hilt of the dagger and grabbing the dead man's sword instead, Aragorn struggled to his feet, and not a moment too soon. A man had noticed his predicament and decided to get rid of the tied ranger, which promised to be a lot easier than fighting a bunch of fiercely determined, angry dwarves.  
  
Unfortunately for him though was the ranger in question no longer bound, nor was he unarmed, and so he came face to face with a ready and prepared enemy, something he had not reckoned with. The element of surprise was on the younger man's side, and the other human quickly fell to the ground, shock and disbelief forever etched onto his features.  
  
Aragorn himself nearly followed suit, the ground suddenly seeming very appealing to him. There were so many different kinds of pains and aches in his body that he could no longer tell which ones originated from the fever, which ones were due to the blood loss and dehydration and which ones had no ties whatsoever to either of them, and to be honest, he didn't care either. The fact remained that he felt miserable, and he didn't even want to know why, something that caused a small part of him to frown in concern.  
  
Fighting with the force of gravity that seemed to have doubled in the past few hours and that was attempting to pull him to the ground, the ranger ran a hand over his face, trying to figure out what exactly was going on here. He had already established that the dwarves had somehow found them, even though he had no idea how, and he was even sure that he recognised a few of the voices that could still be heard yelling "Khazâd! Khazâd!" or "Baruk Khazâd!" once in a while.  
  
Looking about him, he could see about thirty or thirty-five dwarves, or at least he thought so. Right now he wouldn't have been surprised if they had turned out to be twice or thrice as many, considering the way his eyes were beginning to give him trouble. The dwarves had nearly twice as many warriors, yet the lines of the humans had not yet begun to budge, the men fighting with desperate strength and determination. The smaller beings did all they could to break through their ranks, but up until now Adruran had been successful in keeping his men together, even though he hadn't managed to keep them in anything resembling a fighting order. He could hear the human captain's voice somewhere close by, and he could have sworn there was the red haired lieutenant's as well – or was it Geran's?  
  
"Geran!" Aragorn gasped, shocked that he hadn't thought of the other man sooner. The last time he had seen him he had been moving into his direction, and now that he thought about it, he thought he had heard his and Legolas' voices while he had been concentrated on freeing himself…  
  
'Oh no,' he thought horrified and turned around his own axis as fast as he could, side-stepping the bodies of the dead men on the ground. He gulped when his eyes found only fighting men and dwarves. Neither Legolas nor Geran were to be seen, no matter how hard he tried to spy a bit of long fair hair or the dark grey of his own cloak that the elf should still wearing – if he hadn't destroyed it again, he added grumpily. That elf was almost as bad as he was in that regard.  
  
Giving his surroundings a last look, still hoping that he would manage to find a clue as to his friend's whereabouts, he gripped his sword more tightly and began to slowly and carefully fight his way through the men around him over to where the majority of the dwarves were. Geran had dragged him a little to the side when the fighting had started, which had served to give him a short respite until now, since most of the fighting was taking place on the other side of the clearing, but it also presented him with a problem now: The men were right between him and his dwarven allies.  
  
Aragorn gritted his teeth when he moved to the side to escape the blade of one of the men that had decided that he wanted to finish what his lieutenant had started, namely killing the ranger. He needed to get to the dwarves and then find Legolas, as quickly as possible. He didn't doubt his elven friend's ability to protect himself, but in the shape Legolas was in at the moment he wouldn't trust him to defend himself against anything stronger and more cunning than an ill-tempered badger. And unwilling as he was to admit that, Geran was both, and as far as he knew, there was nothing the other man wanted more than to kill his friend.   
  
The dark haired ranger decided to ignore the fact that the ground was beginning to sway slightly under his feet, as if he had just set foot onto a giant ship, and brought his sword up just in time to block a blow his adversary had aimed at his head. He didn't have time for this, he decided, trying to push the other man back, Legolas probably needed his help; he couldn't let him deal with Adruran's insane lieutenant alone! He wouldn't put it beneath Geran to want to nail Legolas' head against the wall of his home as a trophy either, and that was a rather disconcerting idea in his opinion…  
  
He managed to press the other back, but the man simply shook his head and gathered his wits for another attack. Aragorn noticed with a mixture of trepidation and relief that they had moved to the very edge of the clearing, rather close to where the humans' horses were. That guaranteed a smaller chance of being disturbed since most of the humans were occupied on the other side of the glade, something which was both a bad and a good thing. It was a bad thing since his chances of receiving help if he needed it were worse, but it was also a good thing because the other man's chances of getting help if _he _needed it were also worse.   
  
A second later Aragorn decided that he had been wrong, and that it was entirely a bad thing, when his opponent who had been about to attack again gave someone or something behind the ranger's back a quick look before turning around on his heel and running off to join his fighting companions once more.  
  
'Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad…' a voice in the young man's head screeched, and he tried to turn around, but his hurting, hot body wouldn't allow him to move as fast as he usually would have, and so a wild boar slammed into him at full speed, or that was what it felt like.   
  
As he lay on the ground, gasping for breath, he really believed for a moment that a boar had in fact run him over, before he heard a sneering voice that made him abandon that idea quickly. He was beginning to doubt quite a few things lately he had always accepted as true, for example that the world did not spin crazily when you turned your head or that the ground did not lurch at irregular intervals, but he was still sure that boars couldn't talk, and even if they could, he was certain that they wouldn't have used that particularly nasty tone of voice.  
  
"It is true then what they say: You meet everyone twice in your life, ranger."  
  
Aragorn needn't even open his eyes he hadn't realised he had closed to identify the man who had spoken the words, for he knew his voice only too well. It had appeared in his nightmares of late, and had been what had enabled him to recognise the man who possessed it in the first place, and he seriously doubted that he would forget it or its owner any time soon.  
  
He slowly rolled onto his back, resisting the urge to lay his head onto the ground and simply close his eyes. The snow under his body felt so gloriously cool now, and he was sure that it would ease his ever-growing headache as well…  
  
"We've met more often than twice, Hanar, and I cannot say I enjoyed it on even one occasion," he said tiredly, fixing fever-bright grey eyes on the man that stood above him, sword in hand and wearing an expression that could only be described as absolute enjoyment.   
  
Aragorn twisted his head slightly, trying to find his own blade, but it had been thrown away from him and was lying half-buried a few feet to his right. Under normal circumstances he was sure he would have been able to get to it and to his feet before the other man had had the chance to close the distance between them, but now…  
  
Not a chance.  
  
Hanar grinned at him, shrugging slightly.  
"Ah, but who is counting?" He gave the ranger's battered body a gleeful look. "Since it was so enjoyable every time…"  
  
Hanar said some more, but Aragorn didn't feel very interested in it right now. He couldn't get killed now, he thought fuzzily, Legolas needed him! If he didn't tell the dwarves where he had last seen the elven prince they would be too late to help him, and Geran would finally get what he wanted: An elf killed by his hands.  
  
"…but you aren't listening. How rude, ranger!"  
  
Aragorn actually raised an unbelieving eyebrow at that._ Hanar _was lecturing him about the rules of conduct? A part of him noticed how some strength slowly began to return to his body. If he could keep Hanar talking for a little bit longer, he might be able to make a go for his sword and then…  
  
Before he had even finished that thought, a loud blast ripped through the chilly air, drowning out the sounds of the fighting men and dwarves. For a second, Aragorn was unable to understand what it was; all he could think of was one of Gandalf's fireworks. Only a few times had he witnessed these wonderful creations, and it had left him awe-struck and grinning in happiness for hours every time, and not only when he had first seen them at the age of eleven. Mithrandir truly made the most splendid and colourful fireworks, that was known in all of Eriador, from the Misty to the Blue Mountains, and – what was even more important to a child – they were the ones that made the most noise as well.  
  
That was exactly the noise he had just heard, he decided after a moment from his position on the ground, blinking up at Hanar who looked even more surprised than he himself felt, and a split second later his muddled brain worked out what had happened.   
  
Using this opportunity, Aragorn rolled over and grasped his sword, ignoring the way his body protested, and gained his feet quicker than Hanar could react, all the time blessing Gwemyr's name and taking back everything derogatory he had thought about him in the past hour. The Lake-man had heeded his orders after all and set the cave on fire, and even though it had been too late to serve the original purpose, Aragorn could hardly remember a time when he had been gladder about tardiness than now. Finally he realised what had been in the barrels he had seen at the cave's entrance: Judging by the boom that still reverberated off the foothills of the mountain, it had been oil or some similar substance the men had used to light the many lamps that would be needed to effectively light the tunnels, oil whose barrels had now exploded.  
  
Swaying slightly on his feet, Aragorn vowed to forgive Owaeran's brother even his naiveté and thoughtless behaviour and turned to face Hanar once more, noticing that the other man and the dwarves had recovered from the slight shock as well. It took the humans a little longer to understand what was happening, but when they did, it served to disrupt their lines more effectively than even a dozen more dwarven warriors could have.  
  
"The gold!"   
  
"The treasure!"  
  
Anxious cries filled the small glade, and about a third of Adruran's men began to break away, heading for the small path that led up the mountain slope. A part of the dwarves took up the chase, running after the men with their axes raised high and a fierce yell on their lips, and Aragorn was suddenly sure that none of these humans would return alive. They might be taller and perhaps in cases stronger than the dwarves, but up in the mountain they were in the smaller beings' terrain, and didn't stand a chance against them and their axes.  
  
The young ranger looked back from where he had watched the men's line thin and eventually break apart, and he slowly began to grin as he finally began to believe that, perhaps, they might get out of this alive after all.  
  
Aragorn locked eyes with Hanar as he pushed back the weakness that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in his body. He wasn't a vengeful man by nature, especially not for things done to him and not to his friends or family.   
  
Moving into a defensive position, he tightened his grip on his sword as the other man came closer, malicious intend shining brightly in his pale blue eyes.  
  
But then again…   
  
  
  
  
It was a conspiracy; it just couldn't be anything else. He was sure that that tree just in front of him had inconspicuously moved when he hadn't been looking, right into the path he had chosen to follow through the dense thicket of shrubbery and small trees. It shouldn't be a problem to follow it since it had been created a mere hour ago when thirty-eight dwarves had trampled through here, but, somehow, inexplicably, it was.  
  
Celylith suppressed an annoyed growl and moved around the tree that seemed to be mocking him by moving back to wherever it had come from a moment after he had passed it. A part of him knew of course that the tree had in fact not moved and that it was him that was swaying unsteadily from side to side and seemed to be unable to walk ten yards in a straight line, but it was a lot more rewarding to blame the trees.  
  
The noises of the battle grew ever louder, and the silver haired elf forced himself to increase his pace. They had arrived here about an hour and a half ago, the dwarves almost out of their mind with happiness at getting the chance to examine the tunnels where the treasure was located. One would have thought that they would be interested in saving his friends and maybe even the treasure, but what had been exciting them more than anything else was the opportunity to have a look at yet another hole in the rock face.  
  
Celylith shook his head, doggedly ignoring his complaining body and the pain in his back and pushing on. It had taken him far longer than it should have to follow the dwarves and to escape the "watchful eyes" of the two young _gonnhirrim _that had been left with the horses to guard them – and him, the elf suspected.  
  
They were in fact very young, inexperienced, rather friendly for their race and of course disgruntled at being left behind, and so they hadn't paid him the attention he was sure their superiors had expected of them. While the younger one, a for a dwarf tall young being named Nabur, was complaining to his companion that this always happened to him, that Frór and the others always had their fun without him, Celylith had decided that the two of them wouldn't even notice that he'd gone and stealthily and soundlessly disappeared into the wood that would lead him to his friends and the dwarves – or as stealthily and soundlessly as he could move at the moment, which wasn't very stealthy or soundlessly at all.  
  
In fact, he decided as he made his way through the trees, he was very much surprised that Nabur and his friend hadn't noticed anything, but they were dwarves, after all, and to detect a wood-elf when he or she didn't want to be detected was nearly impossible, even if said wood-elf was injured.  
  
The pain in his back became almost unbearable, and Celylith found himself wishing that he had listened to the dwarf healer and taken one of his draughts. A second later he realised that he had just wished that he had listened to a _dwarf_, and a dwarf healer at that, and that evoked a small gasp of terror. Elbereth, he was apparently in a worse shape than he had originally thought, and that was rather serious indeed, for he had been expecting to join his forefathers in the Halls of Mandos for the past few days.  
  
'That doesn't sound too bad right now,' a small voice in his head provided while he was dragging his hurting body onwards, into the direction the dwarves had taken, 'You would meet your grandparents there, and Amaran, and…'  
  
Celylith had never met his father's parents since they had been killed in a goblin ambush some time in the Second Age, but the thought of his sister's dead fiancée sent a cold shiver down his spine that already felt as if someone had snapped it in two. Amaran, his merry friend that had stolen Calowiël's heart with that stupid, reckless smile of his – even though his sister had always insisted that it was neither, but in fact adorable and almost "unbearably cute".  
  
The thought of his sister brought new strength to his body that was very close to an open revolt now. He would _not _die here, he couldn't. He had to sail to Valinor one day and tell her that he was sorry, so very, very sorry, over and over again and as often as it took to be able to see forgiveness in her eyes that were so much like his own. Besides, he needed to get his troublesome prince out of this mess he had got himself and Estel into, or his liege and Lord Elrond would have his head…  
  
That served to increase his pace even more. If he had been afraid of the two elf lords' reaction before all this had happened, then he was positively terrified now. There was no way he was returning to his home with the bodies of the crown prince and the Lord of Imladris' youngest son. Absolutely no way.  
  
While he was still imagining what Lord Elrond's and King Thranduil's reactions would prove to be if they ever found out about all this – and they would, oh, they would – a loud, booming sound echoed through the wood, a sound that would have caused him to dive for cover had he felt up to it. The way it was, he simply stood stock-still, trying to ignore the part of him that screamed that it had finally happened and that the sky was falling down as it had been threatening to do for the past half hour.  
  
No, he thought slowly, the pain in his body serving to muddle his thoughts, this didn't sound like a falling sky. He did in fact not know what a falling sky sounded like, but he very much doubted that it sounded like … Mithrandir's fireworks? Celylith frowned and quickly corrected himself, no, it did not sound like the grey wizard's fireworks, but rather as if something large had burst, or … exploded.  
  
The silver haired slowly began to grin, even despite the pain that that small movement brought, and took up his walk once more, feeling incredibly relieved all of the sudden. He knew that his reasoning wasn't very sound at the moment, not that that surprised him right now if he was perfectly honest with himself, but that noise had served to lift his spirits like nothing else since he had awoken in that accursed dwarven cave yesterday - with the possible exception of Dofur's face when he had first risen from his bed without the dwarf's permission. That had truly been a sight he wouldn't forget in the near future.  
  
His grin widened, and the sunlight that had appeared above the horizon about ten minutes ago appeared to be even brighter and purer now, and the trees not gnarly and bent anymore, but slender and graceful. That was the ultimate proof that at least one of his friends was still alive; only Aragorn or Legolas would find something they could bring to explosion up here. He wasn't sure what else the sound was telling him, or should be telling him hadn't he been so busy remaining upright, but he was sure that it had been a good sign, and he found himself praying that both of them lived.  
  
The sounds of fighting were very close now, and Celylith gripped the pommel of his sword tightly in his fist, not entirely certain that he would remember where it was later if the pain in his back grew even a little more. For a second he asked himself again where his hunting dagger had disappeared to, but that thought was quickly forgotten when he heard something a little bit ahead, away from the main fight, about a hundred yards from where he was standing.  
  
The elf cocked his head half to the side and began to slowly make his way forward, both because he didn't want to alert whoever was ahead of him to his presence and because he had to avoid the trees that were once again starting to sneak up into his way when he wasn't paying attention. His hearing wasn't working so well at the moment, and so it took him some time to hear the voices that could be heard once in a while, exchanging wry remarks or insults in between the sound of clashing swords, and even longer to identify one of them.  
  
When he did, however, he had to lean against the trunk of a tree which had chosen to remain where it was, his legs suddenly going weak. Thank Ilúvatar and all the Valar, at least one of them was still alive, thank you, thank you, thank you…  
  
His fervent prayer of thanks was interrupted when he heard a very familiar voice cry out in pain, closely followed by a heavy thud when someone or something fell to the ground. Another voice he did not know made a snide comment and he could hear the sound of someone stamping heavily through the snow, but the silver haired elf was already moving.  
  
Celylith completely forgot about caution, reason and even his injury and rushed forward, wrenching his sword from its sheath and praying that he wouldn't be too late to keep the promise he had given his liege after all.  
  
  
  
  
Legolas was not having a good time, something his body agreed with whole-heartedly. Since Geran had pushed him away into a rather remote part of the forest, things had been going downhill for him.  
  
He moved rapidly to the side, avoiding the man's blade that whistled through the air where his head had been only seconds ago. He shouldn't have problems like this, he really shouldn't, but yet he did. Under normal circumstances Geran should have been dead a long time ago, for he was still young, and even though he was a talented fighter, he was still rather inexperienced. Besides, they were in a wooded area, so Legolas should have enjoyed yet another advantage, for only the stupidest or most suicidal people took on a Silvan elf in a wood, but since he didn't have the strength to even look at the trees properly, that wasn't much of a help, either.  
  
Drawing back a few paces, Legolas looked hard at the other man, trying his best to get his breathing and wildly beating heart under control. Geran gave him an amused look that yet only served to mask his annoyance and growing concern. Eru, the elf should be dead by now! Considering his injuries he shouldn't have lasted even a third of the time they had already been fighting, and yet here he was, still upright and putting up a fierce resistance. The human frowned, the urgency in his heart only increasing. If he didn't finish this soon, it would be too late and the dwarves would find them, effectively taking away his chance to kill this one.  
  
"What is it, elf?" he taunted, taking a deep breath himself. "Getting tired?"  
  
The elven prince looked back at him, contempt wrinkling his brow.  
"Tired of you? Maybe. Tired of our 'game'? It is not over yet, so how could I tire of it already?"  
  
While he was still speaking the last words, Geran moved forward again, feinting to the left and then thrusting to the right, forcing Legolas to step to the side and parry the blow with his left, which send a nauseating wave of pain up his left arm. The man had soon realised that, even though his adversary's left hand held a dagger, the arm was one of his weaknesses, and missed no chance to exploit it as best as he could.  
  
The pain was so intense that Legolas dropped his dagger and had to fight the urge to join his discarded weapon on the ground. Great Manwë, it hurt, it hurt, it hurt… He had enough presence of mind left to stumble to the side, therefore avoiding getting skewered by Geran who was trying to take advantage of the elf's current state.  
  
Legolas backed away slowly, his right hand still gripping his sword, his left arm pressed tightly to his chest. O the Valar, Aragorn had been right, he shouldn't have moved his arm, why hadn't he listened to his human friend?  
  
Geran gave him a wry grin, saluting him mockingly with the hilt of his sword, which he really shouldn't have done since that only served to fuel the elf's already burning fury. Legolas stared at the weapon the man used, having a very hard time pushing back the feelings of hatred and the need for revenge that threatened to overcome his mind. That was Aragorn's sword, how dared this man…  
  
"Do you remember what I told you yesterday?" he asked in a soft, almost friendly tone of voice, slowly beginning to circle the man, sword at the ready and all pain suddenly gone from his features. "Up that cliff before you gave me that little 'head start' of yours?"   
  
Geran forced his face into a calm façade, trying to shake off the dread that was settling itself over him like a dark blanket.  
"What, when you ran away, elf?"  
  
Legolas nodded slightly, apparently unperturbed by the man's words.  
"I promised you I would take back my friends' weapons and kill you with the dagger you took from my elven companion. I trust you have not forgotten?"   
  
The man snorted and moved forward, forcing Legolas to give way in order to parry the blow he had aimed at the elf's neck.  
"To do what with them?" he ground out, trying to push the other back, but finding to his surprise that the elf still had some strength left and was resisting every such attempt. "To put them on top of their graves? Your elf friend is dead, and the ranger will join him soon! He's already half on the other side anyway, and trust me when I say that Hanar will be more than willing to help him along!"  
  
Geran realised his mistake a second too late when a hot, angry fire lit the silver-blue eyes he was staring at, and with an inexplicable burst of strength and speed the fair haired elf pushed him back, freeing his trapped blade, and started an attack of his own. The human was forced to give way and could do little more than block the blows the elf aimed at him as best as he could.  
  
'Eru!' he gasped inwardly, staring in surprise at his adversary that temporarily seemed to have forgotten about his injuries and was displaying such a lethal fierceness that the man shortly wondered if he had been injured at all. 'This is _not _going according to plan!'  
  
Not even the loud explosion that echoed through the trees a moment later seemed to stop the elven prince at all, while Geran was hard-pressed to come to terms with the sudden, surprising distraction. After a few seconds it began to dawn on him what the noise meant, and when he heard the excited shouts in the camp to his left, the pieces fell into place. Something had happened to the gold, and these idiots were breaking rank and rushing up the slopes!  
  
Geran ducked under a blow that would have taken his head off had he moved a second later and looked at the elf, eyes hard. He had to end it now, if he was right and the others' lines were breaking apart, it was only a matter of time, and not much time at that, until these accursed dwarves would appear and destroy everything.  
  
His chance came when the elf stumbled over a snow-covered tree root that protruded slightly from the ground. The fair being's blow went astray and he needed a few seconds to regain his footing, but that was all the time Geran needed. Stepping slightly to the side, he managed to let the other pass him, only to slam his left shoulder into the elf's back when he moved forwards to avoid falling flat on his face.  
  
White-hot agony plunged his world into sudden darkness, and Legolas' fingers opened on their own account to release his blade that fell soundlessly into the snow. The fair haired prince followed suit, falling to his knees, unable to think of anything than the pain in his back. He didn't even notice that he cried out, his whole being concentrated on his torn back that hurt so fiercely that he didn't even seem to be able to draw breath.  
  
Valar, of course Geran would know where to hit him most effectively; it had been him who had placed the cuts there, after all…  
  
Unable to open his tightly closed eyes, he heard as if through a thick mist how Geran chuckled, his voice sounding beyond pleased with his own actions.  
  
"What? Did that hurt?"  
  
Legolas wanted to say something, to _do _something, but all he could do was try to force his lungs to co-operate again and ball his fists to deal with the pain. He could feel hot blood soak into the bandages Aragorn had wrapped around his chest and back, and instead of decreasing, the agony seemed to multiply, spreading into his chest and up to his head.  
  
Heavy boots crushed the snow as the man stepped closer, and Legolas realised that he didn't have the strength to fight, and that he was going to die now, alone, leaving Aragorn behind, if the ranger was still alive, that was…  
  
Geran looked at the downed elf who didn't even seem to have the strength to open his eyes, anticipation beginning to fill his entire being. Finally, he had been working so long and hard for this moment…  
  
"Well," he stated, watching with lazy interest how a red stain was beginning to spread on the back of the other's grey cloak, "This is it, then." He took the hilt of the ranger's sword in both hands, shoving the dagger he had taken from the elf back into his belt. "I must say I enjoyed our game. It's almost a pity to end it so soon." Geran smiled evilly. "Almost."  
  
Legolas heard how the man raised his blade above his head, and he silently screamed at his body to move, to fight, not to stay here to be slaughtered, but every ounce of strength he had possessed seemed to have dissipated. He couldn't even open his eyes to meet his fate like a warrior should; it appeared that someone had glued them shut.  
  
He sent a last prayer to the Valar to keep Aragorn safe and to not let his father despair of his death, but the blow he expected did not come. Instead of feeling pain he heard soft footsteps that rushed up to them, followed by a low grunt when something slammed into Geran and the sound of bodies hitting the ground.   
  
The confusion that filled his entire being gave him enough strength to open his eyes, and what he saw made his eyes go wide and his heart miss a beat. It couldn't be … _it could not be_…  
  
Geran was lying in the snow, struggling to his feet now, and next to him, on his knees and breathing hard, but undeniable alive, was a silver haired elf that still gripped his sword and was glaring daggers at the man.  
  
The human regained his footing as if in a trance, staring at the fair being's scratched and cut face.  
"You? But … you died! I killed you! You died!!"  
  
The elf simply raised an eyebrow, climbing to his feet as well. So this was the one who had shot him? He gave his prince who was staring at him as if he had just seen a ghost a fleeting glance, and his heart clenched in fury when he saw the blood that was spreading on the other elf's back, the bandages on his chest and left arm and the bruises on his face. How _dare _these people…  
  
"No," Celylith answered slowly, finding that he didn't feel as tired and exhausted anymore, "I didn't." He slowly raised his sword, eyes narrowing when he saw his own dagger on the man's belt. "But you will, Valar help me."  
  
  
  
  
How exactly he got himself into these situations all the time, Aragorn honestly could not tell.   
  
Just a few weeks ago all he had thought about was how to get Legandir, Mirkwood's finest weapon smith, to finish Legolas' bow on time, and now…  
  
Now he was stuck somewhere on the slopes of the Lonely Mountain, cut off from his best friend who was most probably fighting for his life right now as well as from a contingent of dwarven warriors that were too far away to aid him, and was in the process of being cut to pieces by a vengeful man who had spent the past two weeks with thinking of many amusing ways of killing him.  
  
Wonderful.  
  
He sighed inwardly, obeying his inner voice that screamed at him to duck, and to do it now. A second later Hanar's blade cut through the air above his head, and the young man silently thanked the voice. He was beginning to rely more and more on it, since he himself seemed to have some serious problems co-ordinating his movements.  
  
Aragorn backed away slowly, deciding that he needed to end this soon, somehow, anyhow, or Hanar would kill him. He really was not up to a serious fight, and the other man was a skilful swordsman, as were all of Adruran's men. The young ranger noted with some concern how the ground began to sway under his feet once again, and this time the movement was much stronger than before. His tired, hurting body was having trouble coping with the earth's movement, and the pounding in his head only increased.  
  
Valar, he thought as he brought up his sword at the last possible moment to block yet another of Hanar's attacks, he _really _needed to end this, besides, there was still Legolas who needed his help. He quickly took a look at the fight that was still raging behind them, and saw that it was becoming clear that the humans were on the losing end. The dwarves were pressing them back now, bit by bit, and the men were beginning to become cornered against the trees of the small wood, therefore becoming further restricted in their movements.  
  
The young human raised his aching head that seemed to weight about a ton and gave his adversary that was grinning gleefully at him a hard look. The dwarves were winning, it was only a matter of time, and he would _not _give up now and let himself be killed. Especially not by a sick man like Hanar.  
  
"You are losing," Aragorn stated in an even voice, trying to hide his increasingly laboured breathing, "Your men are being cornered right now. Their resistance will crumble and the dwarves will win, and those who don't give themselves up will die."  
  
Hanar looked at the younger man, appearing rather unperturbed by his words.  
"As I said once before, ranger: You may very well be right." He took a small step forward, his hand on his sword's grip tightening unconsciously. "Yet it does not matter. You will go first, I will make sure of that."  
  
The man rushed forward, intending to surprise the young ranger, but Aragorn had moved to the side in time, side-stepping his attack. The ranger quickly turned fully around, facing Hanar once more.  
  
"I didn't kill Lomar," he added in a manner of explanation. Seeing the renewed interest in the older man's eyes, he continued, more than willing to stall some more to give the dwarves a chance to come to his aid. He didn't accept help gladly as a rule, but he wasn't too stupid to realise when it was the only option left.   
  
"No?" Hanar asked, clearly not believing a word Aragorn had said, closing in on his adversary again.  
  
"No," Aragorn moved his head minutely to the side, having decided that it would either explode or fall off his shoulders if he moved it too rapidly or too far. "He killed himself, too afraid to face the consequences of his actions." Contempt stole over his face, and he added, silver eyes hard and cold, "Yet he deserved death. He was a coward, more than anything else."  
  
An angry fire seemed to appear in Hanar's eyes.  
"He was my friend, ranger. And you are responsible for his death, no matter what!"  
  
The other man wrinkled his brow, running an unsteady hand over his face and trying to remove the cold sweat that had accumulated on his brow.  
"He was responsible for his own fate, and he chose to die; no-one else made that decision for him.." He paused, giving Hanar a cold look. "And if he was your friend, then what does that say about you?"  
  
Before he had even fully spoken these words, Aragorn realised that it had been a stupid, no, a terribly stupid thing to say. Why, he berated himself inwardly, why couldn't he keep his mouth shut? At least once? It would make everything so much easier…  
  
'Because you are an idiot, that's why,' a voice in his head spoke up that sounded frighteningly like one or both of his elven brothers, 'You do not think, you just say what comes into your head, and one of these days that trait of yours is going to get you into real trouble…'  
  
If the voice hadn't been so intent on lecturing him on his general stupidity and recklessness, it might have noticed that said trouble was already there. Hanar had taken a few quick steps forward, now red with fury, and was bringing down the blade of his sword with all his might. Aragorn who had been rather concentrated on fighting down a sudden bout of nausea brought up his sword, but he was unable to counter the blow with enough force to block it completely. All he managed to do was to divert it, so that instead of impaling him as the other man had apparently planned the blade buried itself in his right shoulder, cutting deeply through skin and muscle and finally coming to a stop when it met with the resistance of the shoulder blade.  
  
For a moment, both of the men simply stood there, eyes fixed on the sword. Aragorn had just enough time to think that it was a most peculiar sight to see a sword protruding from one's own shoulder when the pain hit him, washing over him like an unstoppable wave. He barely managed to stifle a cry and fell to the ground, his aching body deciding that it was enough now and time to give up.  
  
He barely noticed how Hanar wrenched the blade from his shoulder, the fingers of his left hand automatically grasping the wound, trying to ease the burning pain that seemed to intensify by the second. 'Wonderful,' he thought fuzzily, 'Why did it have to be the right shoulder? Really, really wonderful…'  
  
He tried to get to his feet, but before he could move more than a few inches a fierce kick to his back sent him flying forwards, closely followed by a second that removed his sword from his suddenly lifeless fingers. To right himself again almost took more energy than he had left, and when he opened his eyes again it turned out not even having been worth it: The grinning, gleeful face of Hanar was all he could see, and he was almost angry he had picked himself up from the wonderfully cold snow for _this_.  
  
Hanar grinned down on him, watching with obvious fascination how dark scarlet blood dripped from his blade onto the white snow. Switching his sword into his left and drawing his dagger with his right, he turned back to the ranger who was apparently about to fall over again.  
"As I said, you will go first! And we are back to square one, ranger, are we not? You are on your knees in front of me, and can do nothing to stop me. It is always the same, this is beginning to bore m…"  
  
Before the man could finish the sentence, he sensed movement behind him and tried to turn, but it was already too late for him. A pair of hooves hit him into the side, making him sail through the air until he hit a large, snow covered boulder. The man didn't move for a few moments, but just when the young ranger was beginning to suspect that he had been killed by the impact – a prospect which Aragorn was prepared to meet with the utmost indifference – he began to move slightly and gave a small moan.  
  
Aragorn paid the man no heed, crawled over to his blade and struggled his feet, realising that this was the best chance he was going to get, and since it took him far longer than it should have, he and Hanar managed to regain their footing at nearly the same time. The young ranger didn't take his eyes off the other man, not daring to look for the horse that had just saved his life and furiously battling the stabbing pain in his shoulder that made it near-impossible for him to even hold his sword.   
  
He still couldn't believe his luck, he thought, trying very hard not to drop to the ground again, why a horse would have chosen to kick Hanar was beyond him, but he certainly wasn't complaining. Neither he nor the older man had paid the horses that were more than startled by the fight any attention, and so the sound of hooves on the snow or loud snorting hadn't alerted either of them.  
  
"Still bored?" Aragorn asked the other man, raising a mocking eyebrow. He didn't care anymore if he antagonised Hanar even further, he needed to end this, now, and if Hanar was too angry to think clearly, all the better.  
  
Hanar growled angrily, blood from a head wound trickling down his neck. Damn that ranger and his whole impertinent kind! Without another word he rushed forward, intent on putting an end to this whole affair. He was beginning to tire of the ranger, besides, if the sounds behind them were any indication, the dwarves would be here soon, and the very last thing he wanted was to be captured and brought before the King of Erebor or Dale. Or both.  
  
Aragorn waited patiently for the other man to come close enough, rather astonished by his calmness himself. He knew he had only this one shot; he just didn't have the strength for a second try, especially considering the way the world was starting to swim and darken in front of his eyes. He would either kill Hanar in a few seconds or die himself, and that thought gave him a certain sense of peace.  
  
Waiting for the last possible moment, he moved forward, right into Hanar's way. The older man had anticipated much, but this hadn't been part of it. The young ranger's seemingly suicidal manoeuvre startled him, and he side-stepped to the right, doing exactly what Aragorn had expected him to do.  
  
With a small, satisfied inner smile Aragorn changed directions and stepped to the left, cutting off Hanar's way. The older man had enough sense left to twist to the right to avoid the ranger's sword arm, and was unwittingly caught in the trap Aragorn had laid. Summoning all his strength, the young man moved with a speed that would have made his elven instructors proud. Letting go of the somewhat crude, heavy sword he still awkwardly held with his right and almost letting it fall to the ground, slippery as the hilt was with his own blood that flowed down his arm from the wound in his shoulder, he gripped it with his left hand and turned slightly, bringing his own body alongside Hanar's and thrusting the blade upwards, wincing slightly when he felt the steel cut through flesh until it was buried deep in the other's chest.  
  
Hanar blinked slowly, and neither of the men noticed that his weapon fell to the ground, clanging slightly when it hit a small rock, both staring at the sword that was protruding from the man's ribcage. Realising what he was doing, Aragorn quickly withdrew his blade, still somewhat stunned that his trick had worked. His brothers had always drilled into him to fight unpredictable, to do what his adversary expected the least, but that he had actually succeeded was more than surprising in his opinion.  
  
Hanar collapsed to the ground, the light in his eyes already dimming, staring at him with wide, unbelieving eyes. Aragorn lowered his sword and took a step closer to the dying man, forcing his hurting body to remain upright for a moment longer.  
  
He looked at the other man on the ground, who right now didn't look intimidating or menacing anymore, but rather pitiful, if anything.  
  
"No," Aragorn shook his head slowly, pushing back the pain and weakness that wanted to drive him to his knees, "No, you were wrong." He gave Hanar a long, hard look, feeling how the hatred in his chest disappeared and was replaced by weariness and bone-deep exhaustion. "After _you_, Hanar."  
  
The other human looked at him with glassy eyes, and Aragorn watched how they stilled and finally glazed over, the light in them dying as the man's soul left his body.  
  
Aragorn slowly let out the breath he hadn't realised he had been holding, still looking down on Hanar's lifeless body. It had been the other man's unreasonable hate and need for revenge that had brought him here, and yet he felt responsible for what had happened. He didn't feel remorse or regret, he had acted in self-defence after all and didn't have any doubts whatsoever that Hanar would have killed him without a second thought, but still: Had Lomar not killed himself, nothing of this sort would have happened, so somehow, Hanar had been right and he was responsible, in a way…  
  
The young ranger shook his head, shortly contemplating if he would be able to sit down himself or fall down in the next few seconds. It was his conscience that mourned for the loss of a life, however despicable and twisted it had been. He knew that he couldn't have acted any other way and wasn't to blame for anything that had happened, but still…  
  
He was still pondering this when he heard a noise behind him, in fact the neighing of a horse that sounded very familiar, even though he couldn't identify it right now. Aragorn had just enough energy left to turn around, and what he saw filled him to equal parts with elation, astonishment and unbelief.   
  
Elation because he saw that the men's lines were finally crumbling under the relentless pressure of the dwarves. The humans that were still alive were looking for a way to escape, even though Aragorn suspected that few if any would succeed.  
Astonishment because he finally realised which horses had saved his life: In a loose semi-circle around him stood Rashwe, his own horse and Celylith's, their tails swishing from side to side and bright eyes rolling, making clear to any man that dared come near them that they wouldn't let anyone step closer. The horses managed to keep any humans that wanted to flee into his direction at bay, something for which he was very thankful.  
And unbelief because in front of him stood Adruran, brown hair plastered to the side of his head with blood that flowed freely from a cut on his forehead, his horse next to him and an unreadable expression on his face.  
  
All Aragorn could do was stare wide-eyed at the man in front of him, his mind screeching at him to do something else than stand here and stare at the human captain with his mouth open like a fish out of water. He didn't know how Adruran had got past the horses without him noticing or where the horses had come from in the first place, but these were hardly questions that mattered right now. After a few more moments the young ranger remembered that he probably should at least try to defend himself, and he raised his sword, his hot, aching head swimming and making it hard to think or concentrate.  
  
If anything, Adruran merely seemed annoyed with his reaction, and with a movement too quick for the feverish ranger to comprehend, he raised his own sword and brought it down on Aragorn's with enough force to make sure that the younger man's arms screamed under the strain. Weakened by fever, blood loss and dehydration as he was, Aragorn wasn't able to block the blow for long, and his arms wobbled and finally gave way, and Adruran knocked the sword out of his grasp and sent him flying backwards onto his back with the same movement.  
  
Aragorn simply lay in the snow, his whole body screaming in pain, and decided that this had been one thing too many. Valar, this was not fair, not fair, not fair, not fair…  
  
He couldn't go on, there was simply no strength left in his body. He knew that he would die if he didn't do something now, but he didn't even have the energy to lift his head. His skull was aching so fiercely that he was beginning to suspect that it would burst in the next few minutes, his old injuries and the cracked ribs throbbed, and the stabbing pain from his shoulder wound began to intensify and spread again. He gave an almost inaudible sigh. This was it. He couldn't do anything to save himself now, and the dwarves and even the horses were too far away or too busy to help him.  
  
Instead of bringing his sword down on the defenceless body of the younger man in front of him though, Adruran simply gave him a long look before saluting him slightly with the hilt of his blade.  
"I knew you and your elven friends would be trouble. I should have killed you when I had the chance, but, alas, now it is too late."  
  
He smiled slightly when he saw the quiet disbelief in the other man's eyes.  
"I am intelligent enough to know when my cause is lost, ranger. My men are dead or fleeing, the treasure is destroyed, and my plans have failed. I do not intend to return to my liege bearing the news of our failure." Adruran gave the younger man a slightly amused look. "It hardly matters now whose fault it was, does it?"   
  
He shot a quick look over his shoulder, noting that a troupe of dwarves were fighting their way over to their position, and mounted his horse, returning his blade to its sheath. He turned back to the young ranger on the ground, his eyes hard now.  
"If you try to find me or stop me now, I will kill you, trust me. If we ever meet again or you and your friend get in the ways of my plans again, I will not be as lenient as now."  
  
Adruran turned his horse and was about to spur it on to disappear down the path that led into the valley of Dale when the quiet, rather weak of the man on the ground stopped him.  
"Why?"  
  
The older man stopped, turning around until his eyes met Aragorn's, apparently understanding what he wanted to know.   
"Why do I not kill you?" His face remained expressionless, even thought there was an amused sparkle in his eyes. "Because I am a reasonable man, ranger. I thought you knew that."  
  
Adruran turned his horse and quickly disappeared down the path, leaving behind a bewildered, very surprised ranger that had a hard time believing what had just happened. For a few seconds he contemplated if he had perhaps imagined things – which wouldn't have surprised him in the slightest, considering the way he felt at the moment – but his idle musings were interrupted when a big, velvety nose carefully nudged his uninjured shoulder, making him turn his head to look up into the big, soulful eyes of his horse that was standing next to him, snorting softly as if admonishing him for getting himself injured.  
  
Aragorn noticed how the world seemed to somehow become softer around the edges and the colours became paler, and he watched with mild concern how his horse's chestnut brown coat turned into something of a dull grey all of the sudden. Looking around a bit more, he saw two more horses, and when he saw the smug expression Legolas' horse wore, something that should be impossible for an animal, he knew without doubt which animal had saved his life by kicking Hanar away from him.  
  
He feebly reached up and stroked his horse's nose that was still trying to get him to rise to his feet, something that he just couldn't do, no matter how much he wanted to reassure the animal, and his slowly failing hearing informed him that at least three dwarves were coming his way, judging by the way the snow was trampled somewhere to his left.  
  
Letting his head sink back into the gloriously cold snow, he asked himself and all the Valar that might be willing to listen why it had had to be Rashwe that had saved him. If the animal had been bad before, it would be unbearable now.  
  
  
  
  
Geran looked from one elf to the other, not believing what his eyes saw.   
  
The one he had been fighting was on his knees in the snow, staring at his friend with wide, unbelieving eyes, totally unaware of anything else. The man decided in an instant that he had never before seen anyone this astonished; the elf's body was rigid with shock and surprise.  
  
Geran himself felt little better. He gave the other elf a furtive glance, noting the stiff way he moved and the pain that was plain to see on his scratched and bruised face. He looked half-dead now, yet he should be _completely _dead! He had seen his body, had seen his own arrow protrude from his back; there was no way a man could have survived that…  
  
He stopped in mid-thought, cursing himself inwardly. No man could have survived it, but an elf… Geran took a step forward, eyes blazing with fury that was directed mainly at himself. How could he have been so stupid, so thoughtless? He had once again underestimated the elves, yet it was well-known that they were more resilient and harder to kill than men or dwarves…  
  
Bringing his sword up in front of his body, Geran gave the silver-haired elf a sneering smile.  
"How kind of you to join us, Master Elf. Your friend here came back from the dead as well today, as did your little ranger friend, so I might have figured you would as well, right?"  
  
Celylith took a step to the side, placing himself between the man and his prince, his heart rejoicing at Geran's words. So Aragorn was still alive as well, thank Ilúvatar! Lord Elrond might only maim him instead of feeding him to a pack of wargs…  
  
"I wouldn't count on doing the same if I were you, human." He gave the man a small nod, looking pointedly at his knife on Geran's belt. "You have something that belongs to me." A small, dangerous smile spread on his face, making him look even fiercer than before. "And I want it back."  
  
Geran raised his chin and smiled back at him, trying hard to push back the worry that was beginning to consume his heart. He really was not prepared for a second elf…  
"Then come and get it, elf."  
  
Celylith's now downright terrifying smile widened, a sight that – even under normal circumstances - would have every sensible being urgently contemplate surrender or flight.  
"I have been so hoping you would say that, human."  
  
Hot rage bubbled in the elf's chest, lending him the strength he needed to attack the human. He knew perfectly well that he was no real match for the man right now, but he had no other options left, especially since Legolas didn't look up to fighting right now. While he brought his sword down onto the man's with all the force he could muster, he asked himself briefly why his friend was acting so peculiarly. Surely he had known that he would somehow pull through and get back to him with reinforcements? Legolas was acting as if he had seen a ghost…  
  
Geran blocked his blow and pushed him back, and Celylith's gaze once again fell on the long dagger on the man's belt, and he felt how his fury even increased. This man had not only hurt his friends and especially his prince, had shot him and had therefore condemned him to spending the past few days with the dwarves under their mountain, but he had touched his weapons as well. Worse than that, he had actually _taken _one of his knives, in fact the knife Calowiël had given him shortly before her departure, and if he wasn't very much mistaken, it was Aragorn's sword that was threatening to take off his head right now.  
  
The silver haired elf growled almost inaudibly, anger drowning out the pain in his back. There was only so much a wood-elf could tolerate, and this was definitely beyond it. Getting cut into pieces by a friend's sword wielded by a human child who had beforehand stolen his dagger was _not _his idea of an honourable death.  
  
Soon, however, all his thoughts were concentrated on fending off the man, and Celylith felt how his strength was giving out. Unfortunately, the dwarves had been right, as unhappy as he was to admit that. The king, various of his advisors, Dofur and about every dwarven warrior that had laid eyes on him had wasted no time informing him of the fact how terribly weak he looked and that he was most definitely not up to a fight, most of them with fake smiles on their faces that did not hide their glee at being able to say that to an elf.   
  
'Yes,' he nodded inwardly, narrowly escaping a jab that would have cleanly sliced through about his third and fourth rib had he remained where he was, 'They were right, Melkor take it all!'  
  
Geran aimed another slash at his chest that was blocked just in time and drew back, smiling evilly at his weakened adversary.  
"What, Master Elf, you too? First your friend here gives up so soon and now you? Perhaps I should have taken the ranger instead; maybe he would have put up more of a fight? And I always thought elves were dangerous fighters…"  
  
Celylith gave the man a scathing glare, inwardly deciding that he wouldn't last for much longer. The world was beginning to sway in a most disconcerting manner, and the fact that someone seemed to be busy breaking his spine into tiny little pieces didn't help matters either.  
  
"You are a coward, and a hypocrite, human," he told him full of contempt, trying his best to remain between this human and his friend, who was still kneeling in the snow. He wouldn't let this man hurt Legolas again, not while he was still standing – which admittedly wouldn't be too long the way things were going right now. He continued, anger turning his dark blue eyes the colour of black, smouldering coals. "If you wanted an even fight you wouldn't have injured my friend in the first place! You know you could not win if he wasn't weakened! You bask in the glory of the illusion that you fight us fairly, yet you know that you do not! You lack the courage and the skill to match with the elves, so you fight dirty!"  
  
Geran's eyes lit up angrily, unable to discard the elf's words as untrue. He moved forwards quickly, feinting to the left before thrusting to the right, and in his weakened state Celylith didn't have enough time to react. He managed to bring up his sword in front of him, but only to block the blow somewhat. Geran's sword met his with a sharp, cracking noise, and the silver haired elf's sword was wrenched from his grasp, flying through the air as if in slow motion to impact with a small tree some feet away where it finally fell to the ground.  
  
Celylith stared at his sword that so surprisingly had parted company with him, and barely felt the kick that connected with his midsection, driving him to his knees. Only when his body hit the ground the pain set in, exploding in his whole torso, making a blinding white light appear behind his closed eyelids. Nothing mattered except the all-consuming, all-defining pain, and so he barely heard Geran's next words, even thought a small, wry voice in his head informed him that he probably missed nothing important.  
  
"Brave words for someone who is lying on the ground now, elf," Geran spat, stepping closer to his opponent who was swaying on his knees as if a strong wind would blow him over. He gave the silver haired being another kick, knocking him onto his side which earned him a small cry of pain as the elf tried to curl himself into a ball to protect his body from further abuse. Not willing to draw this out any longer, the man raised his sword and brought it down onto the body of the elf – or he wanted to, since his blade was intercepted by a silver flash of steel, only inches away from the downed elf's neck.  
  
The man looked up, surprised, and met the steeliest pair of blue eyes he had ever seen.  
  
"Our game is not over yet, Geran," Legolas informed him coldly, knocking the human's blade away from his injured friend. "You get to him through me."  
  
Geran grinned, yet there was worry and puzzlement in his eyes. How had the elf got off the ground?  
"Oh, I think we can arrange something of that sort, Master Elf."  
  
Legolas took a step forward, shielding Celylith's body from view, a cold, deadly grin spreading on his face.   
"We'll see. You may be surprised."  
  
Before the man could reply anything, Legolas attacked, putting all his fury, pain and hatred he felt for the man into his movements. While he was spinning and dodging with a speed and grace that would have made anyone doubt that he was anything but completely well, he forced himself to take his thoughts off the elf behind him. He would not think of him now, or he wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything else. It couldn't be Celylith, no matter how much he looked and sounded like him; it was simply not possible, and he wouldn't allow himself to hope before he had made sure that Geran finally regretted having ever laid hands on his friends and him.  
  
Pushing the pain that was washing over him with every move he made to the back of his mind with a strength of will he didn't know he possessed, he lashed out at the human, not hiding a small smile of satisfaction when the man gave a startled cry of pain when the blade connected with his side. Now he could see how _he _liked it, he decided somewhat gleefully, withdrawing his blade and attacking again, not giving his opponent time to gather his wits.  
  
Geran escaped the skilfully executed blow only by stumbling backwards, his left hand pressed against the gash in his side. How did the elf do it, he wondered, how? He had been on his knees a few minutes ago, defeated, bleeding and unable to defend himself, and now here he was, fighting with a strength and fury that was almost unbelievable.  
  
He looked up into the elf's face, and when he saw the determined, merciless expression in his bright silver-blue eyes, he began to realise that, perhaps, he had underestimated him just a little bit. This elf would kill him without a moment of doubt or a second thought, or he would die trying.  
  
Battling with this rather frightening discovery, he tried to attack again, once more trying to hit the elf in the back like the last time, knowing full well that he wouldn't be able to rise again after another hit there. Legolas however recognised the man's intentions quickly enough, and he twisted his body to the side and danced out of reach, leaving Geran wondering how a badly wounded creature such as him could move so fast and sure.  
  
Geran swallowed hard, gathering all his strength for a final attempt. Stepping closer again, he feinted and then jabbed to the left, leaving the elf no other choice but to move to the right and bring up his blade in an attempt to block the sword with his own. While their swords were locked and each of them tried to push the other back and disarm him in the same movement, Geran smiled when he saw what he had been waiting for: The elf's left side was open to attack, concentrated as he was on keeping the man's sword away from his neck.  
  
With an evil smile Geran let go of his sword's hilt with his right and, drawing back a little, smashed his fist onto the elf's bandaged left arm with all the strength he had left. His opponent's reaction was just as he had expected, and yet not so. The elf's face turned a ghostly white in a fraction of a second, and he couldn't hold back the scream of pain that was ripped from his lips by the intense pain. Yet he didn't fall or let go of the sword that he gripped with his right, something that Geran couldn't understand. The elf's arm was broken, and, judging by the blood that was beginning to colour the once green bandage a rusty brown, it was broken badly. The pain had to be agonising; he should be lying on the ground unable to think by now!  
  
All the elven prince did, however, was lean forward a little, agony and determination clouding his eyes. Geran tightened his grip on his sword, wrinkling his brow in confusion, his puzzlement only growing when he felt the elf loosening his hold on his own blade.  
  
He looked up, his heart freezing in his chest when he saw the cold eyes of the fair haired elf that was surveying him without mercy.  
"What do you think you're doing?" he gasped as he felt the elf move closer to him, all but letting go of his sword.  
  
Legolas looked back, allowing all the fury, pain and hatred to show in his eyes.  
  
"Keeping a promise," he retorted softly, and with a quick step that brought him as close as possible to Geran he let go of his sword that fell to the ground, therefore unbalancing Geran and causing him to pitch forward.  
  
Giving the surprised man a cold look, Legolas grasped Celylith's dagger that hung on Geran's belt, removing it from its leather sheath with a flick of the wrist. With the same movement he stepped back, and, eyes dark and emotionless, he changed the angle slightly and buried the knife in the human's chest to the hilt.  
  
Geran simply stood there, staring at the dagger's carved hilt even as he fell to the ground when his legs refused to support his weight any longer. He didn't even look up when he felt the elf step closer, his movements inaudible on the soft snow that covered the earth.  
  
The last thing he thought before the darkness drew closer and swallowed him was that Adruran had been right after all: Elves were more trouble than they were worth. With that thought he fell into the blackness he knew was death, his eyes still staring wide and unseeing at the dagger he had taken from the silver haired elf, the dagger that had now taken his own life, just as the other elf had promised him.  
  
Legolas took another step closer to the dead human, his face unreadable as he stared down on him. With an obvious effort he kneeled down next to the man, giving him a long look, before he reached out with his slightly shaking right hand to grasp the knife's carved ivory hilt that contrasted sharply against the man's dark clothing and the slowly spreading red stain around the blade. He took the hilt and swiftly pulled the dagger out, wincing inwardly at the noise his elven ears could very clearly hear when the steel reluctantly slid out.   
  
Shoving the blade into his belt, he took up Aragorn's sword that had fallen from Geran's hand when he had collapsed and regained his footing, using the rest of his strength that was ebbing fast now that the adrenaline that had kept him upright was fading. He gave Geran's body another long look, wondering what it had been that had made him so twisted and cruel. The man had hardly been older than Aragorn; what had it been that had turned him into what he had been? What kind of being, of the second born or not, enjoyed inflicting pain and suffering so much that, in the end, its consequences had taken his own life?  
  
These thoughts weighted heavily on the prince's mind when he heard a soft, rather weak voice, a voice that once again caused his heart to start beating so fast that it felt as if it would burst any second now.  
"Legolas?"  
  
The fair haired elf didn't turn around, he couldn't. For now he had the hope that, somehow, Celylith had survived, that he was not dead and the men had been mistaken, but if he turned, it would all turn to ashes. He couldn't face reality, it was so much nicer to have a little hope, after all…  
  
The voice that sounded so much like his childhood friend's sounded again, slight worry in it now, and a hand was placed on his shoulder.  
"Legolas? Are you alright? Legolas!"  
  
The hand started to tighten on his good shoulder and to turn him around, and still Legolas resisted. He didn't want to see that he was imagining things, he didn't want to feel how the tiny sparkle of hope was extinguished in his heart, he didn't want to fall back into the dark chasm of despair, he didn't…  
  
A second, slightly trembling hand joined the first, turning him around with gentle strength.  
"Legolas? What is it? Look at me, my lord, please!"  
  
The worry and fear in the familiar voice finally caused him to lift his chin and open his tightly closed eyes, and he felt how tears gathered in his eyes, threatening to fall on pale cheeks. O the Valar, it was not possible! Celylith was dead, he knew he was, and yet here he stood, in front of him, and even though his scratched face was deathly pale, his hand that was still gripping his shoulder felt alive and real enough.  
  
Legolas bit down on his split bottom lip, refusing to let the tears fall. He slowly reached out with his right hand, almost afraid to come too close to the silver haired elf that stared at him in concern, almost afraid that he might vanish when he tried to touch him, an illusion that his hurting mind had made up to ease his pain.  
  
Yet when he reached out with trembling fingers, his friend's image did not vanish and disappear, and his hand he had extended touched the other elf's cheek. Legolas quickly withdrew his hand as if he had burnt himself and stared at the silver haired elf, the small, tentative spark of hope growing in his chest.  
  
"Celylith?" he asked in a broken voice, a voice that sounded foreign to his own ears, tears streaming down his cheeks now. "Elbereth, is that really you, _mellonamin_?"   
  
Celylith looked back at his prince, confusion and pain warring on his face. He couldn't understand why Legolas looked shocked to the very core of his being, as if he had seen a ghost… The silver haired elf took a deep, shocked breath, finally realising what the man had meant when he had said he had "returned from the dead". Legolas had thought he was dead, he had thought the arrow had killed him!   
  
He wanted to say so many things, to reassure his friend who had grieved for him for more nearly two days, but he couldn't find a single word that would have described his feelings, and so he simply smiled at his friend and tightened his hold on his shoulder, partly to reassure the other elf with his touch and partly because he was beginning to sense how his strength was beginning to desert him. It had taken him a long time to get back to his feet, and if he wasn't careful, he would fall down again.  
  
"Of course, Legolas," Celylith smiled at the wide-eyed elven prince. "Of course it is me. You didn't think I would leave you and Estel behind just like that, did you?"  
  
A brilliant, relieved smile spread on his friend's face, rivalling the sun's light that was rising behind them in its intensity. Before the elven warrior could say or do anything else, he felt himself being embraced in a bear hug of such strength that he was sure that he could hear a few ribs break. He was just trying to remind his friend and prince that even elves needed some oxygen from time to time – a rather difficult enterprise for he had absolutely no air left – when Legolas let go of him and took a step back, sudden fury in his eyes.  
  
Legolas grabbed the stunned elf's forearms tightly, bright, laughing eyes blazing in his face.  
"Don't you – _ever _– do that again! Elbereth, I thought you were dead! I grieved for you for two days, we both did! I – thought – you – were – _dead_!"  
  
Celylith smiled softly at his friend, not able to even begin to imagine what his friend had gone through these past two days.  
"But I am not. I live, and so do you. That is all that matters, my friend."  
  
Legolas shook his head that was right now spinning with so many questions that he didn't even know where to start asking, and at the moment none of them seemed even the slightest bit important, since the joy in his heart drowned out everything else, even the pain and weakness in his body. Celylith was alive, he had not died, he was alive, thank Ilúvatar, he was alive…  
  
"Where were you?" he began to ask, studying his friend's face which he had never thought to see again. "What happened? How … Estel!" A sudden thought shot through him, making him look up wildly. "We need to get back to him! I haven't seen him since the battle started and he was feverish to begin with and Hanar might have found him and we must make sure that he is alright and…"  
  
He would have said more but was interrupted by the clear, pealing sound of Celylith's laughter, and the realisation that he would get to hear it many more times was almost enough to make the tears start falling again. Legolas shook his head almost angrily, pushing back these feelings. They weren't safe yet, and he would be damned if he lost it now.  
  
Celylith stopped chuckling, feeling so relieved that both his prince and most probably Aragorn were still alive that he was unable to suppress the wide grin that was still visible on his face.  
"Peace, Legolas. We will find him; it appears that the battle is over."  
  
Legolas turned his head slightly to the side, and really, the sounds of fighting had dissipated. The sounds of the forest were only now and then interrupted by gruff shouts and orders; it appeared that the small beings had indeed been victorious.  
  
"We will," he nodded, beginning to sway slightly from side to side, his adrenaline and strength nearly spent. Remembering the dagger he had taken from Geran, he slowly reached for the weapon and, after some failed tries he really could not explain, pulled it out. He gave his friend a small smile and offered him the weapon hilt first. "This belongs to you, I believe."  
  
"I had wondered where it'd gone," Celylith mumbled and reached for the knife, stroking softly about the carved hilt before he took it. The dagger was beautiful; his sister had got it for him in Lothlórien while she had been visiting their grandparents there. He slowly raised his eyes to meet his friend's, serious. "Thank you. I would have greatly missed it. Why did that human take it?"  
  
Legolas' eyes darkened as they began to push their way through the undergrowth.  
"He took it as a trophy." Celylith looked at him and he grimaced, his left arm pressed against his chest. "Don't ask. I will tell you later, but first we must find Aragorn."  
  
About three and a half steps later, Legolas' strength was finally spent and he blindly grasped for a nearby tree as his knees buckled, causing Celylith to rush forward. The silver haired elf caught his friend just in time to avoid a collision with either the ground or the tree trunk, ignoring his own body that told him insistently that rushing anywhere in his current condition could only be described as exceptionally stupid.  
  
"You need help," he stated slowly as he swallowed hard, trying to push back the pain of his own injuries. "Here, lean on me and…"  
  
Legolas raised his head, eyes dark in his white face.  
"I am not crippled, _you _are the one that needs help if you ask me. I can walk."   
  
Celylith scowled at the other elf, unfortunately feeling much too weak to be able to keep it up for long.  
"As can I." He saw the stubborn expression on Legolas' face and relented, sighing softly. "Lean on me and I will lean on you or we will never get down into that accursed camp."  
  
The elven prince smirked, but even the joy at being able to argue with his friend was not able to mask the exhaustion and pain he felt.  
"Of course you can walk, _mellonamin_. Whatever made me doubt that? Wait, it might have been the fact that you're ready to drop any second, or…"  
  
"Look who's talking," Celylith grumbled under his breath, grasping the elven prince's shoulder as they slowly made their way down the path that led down into the humans' camp.   
  
Legolas' voice interrupted the brief silence that had fallen between the two of them.  
  
"Celylith?"  
  
"Yes, my lord?"  
  
"Where did all the dwarves come from?"  
  
  
  
  
A much longer time later than it should have taken them they reached the edge of the main fire place, and stopped for a second to regain their bearings.  
  
The dwarves had indeed emerged victorious, and everywhere in the camp the small beings could be seen, searching the tents for any humans that might have hidden there, guarding the prisoners – Legolas noted, to his shame with quite a bit of satisfaction, that they were few – and caring for their wounded. Next to a great, roaring fire in the middle of the small clearing dwarven healers bustled to and fro, cleaning, bandaging and splinting numerous wounds, apparently much to the dismay of the majority of the patients.   
  
The elves' eyes quickly wandered over the dwarven healers and the beings they tended to, and to their disappointment they soon saw that Aragorn was not among them. Legolas' keen eyes began to survey the rest of the camp, panic beginning to fill his heart when he remembered Geran's gleeful smile when he had stated that Aragorn would die. What if Hanar had indeed found him, what if he was wounded, lying unconscious somewhere here in this camp, what if he had just found one friend to lose the other?  
  
The fair haired elf's body slumped against his companion when he thought about that possibility, and Celylith was just contemplating dragging his prince over to the healers – if he was able to walk that far himself – when a gruff dwarven voice made both of them turn around.  
  
"Hey! Master Celylith! Prince Legolas!"  
  
Celylith resisted the urge to clamp his eyes shut; why had it to be that dwarf, why had it be to be him? Forcing a smile onto his lips, he turned, tightening his grip on Legolas' shoulder in attempt to keep both of them upright.  
  
"Master Frerin."  
  
He ignored his elven friend's raised eyebrow at his obvious familiarity with the dwarf and looked at the smaller being, doing his best to appear innocent.  
  
Frerin simply folded his arms across his chest, glaring at the tall elf.  
"Weren't you supposed to stay with you Nabur and the horses?"  
  
Celylith gave the dwarf a small, insincere smile. Frerin and his brother Frór were the most annoying dwarves he had ever met, and the fact that they and the other members of their patrol had saved his life didn't help matters either.  
"I was?"  
  
Frerin shook his head unwillingly, stroking with a hand over his bushy dark beard. Elves!  
"You can take that up with King Dáin, it is none of my concern." Celylith was just about to agree when the smaller being continued, looking both of them up and down. "I was sent here to find you. We must hurry."  
  
"Hurry?" Celylith asked, leaning a bit more heavily upon Legolas' shoulder, which was not that good an idea since his friend was barely conscious by now. He frowned, trying to concentrate despite the pain that was consuming every square inch of his back. Somehow in the course of this conversation he had got lost. "Hurry where? And why? Who sent you to find us?"  
  
The dwarven warrior shook his head again, adjusting the axe on his belt. Did one have to spell everything out for this race?  
"Why, young Strider of course. He got rather agitated when we wouldn't leave him and search for you right away."  
  
At that Legolas' head shot up, and he pushed back the unconsciousness that was beginning to envelop his mind.  
"Strider? You have found him? Where is he?"  
  
"I will take you to him," Frerin sighed impatiently. He turned, motioning the two of them to follow him. "My brother, the king and a few healers are with him. Come with me."  
  
Trading a concerned look, the elves slowly began to follow the dwarf. On their way over to where the humans' horses were kept they noted that only a part of the dwarves were still in the camp; the rest was probably up the mountain trying to save what they could of the treasure. Legolas shrugged inwardly. He didn't care about the gold in the slightest, all he was interested in was his human friend.  
  
After a few more minutes, they reached a small group of dwarves that were standing next to a rather large rock, and were almost thrown to the ground by Rashwe and Celylith's horse that was mad with joy upon seeing its master again. For a brief moment Legolas wondered why the horses were here and had not remained in the woods as he had ordered before he abandoned the line of thought with an inward shrug. It was Rashwe he was talking about; he hadn't really expected the animal to heed his commands. While Celylith remained behind a bit to calm the prancing animal that was right now trying to lick his face, Legolas stepped closer to the dwarves, and had to smile when he heard Aragorn's weak, but still determined voice.  
  
"I told you he was over by the trees when I last saw him! Please, you must look for him … he will have found some kind of trouble, he always does…"  
  
A dwarf next somewhere to Legolas' right grumbled, and the elf identified him as Frór, the one who had insulted his father when they had arrived at Erebor. He knew that he should still feel angry with the small being, but he just couldn't muster the strength for it.  
  
"We will find him, lad, never fear. If he's still alive we'll bring him here, but first you will relax and let the healers have a look at you! You are barely conscious as it is!"  
  
Legolas took another step closer to where his friend lay, and could only shake his head in dismay when he saw the man's body. Aragorn was lying in the snow, the dwarves clustering around him and his horse standing behind his head, shooting the small beings suspicious glances. The young ranger's face was ghostly pale now except for the two specks of red up on his cheekbones, and his entire right side was stained with blood from a large gash in his shoulder. The elf opened his mouth for an admonishing lecture before he realised that he himself was probably not looking much better and closed it again with a small snap.  
  
Aragorn turned his face to the right, feverish eyes clinging to the dwarf's face. It was obvious that the man hadn't really understood what Frór had said.  
"You must find him … Legolas is injured, he needs help … he…"  
  
"…is fine," the elven prince interrupted his friend and kneeled down next to the man, or that was what he would've called it. Every other person would have used the term "collapse".   
  
"Legolas!" Aragorn croaked, silver eyes lightening up when he saw his elven friend's face. "Are you alright? What about Geran? Did he hurt you?"  
  
Next to the ranger, King Dáin looked up sharply. He hadn't heard the elf approach, but now that he saw him, he had to admit that he looked terrible. He was about as pale as the ranger and just as bruised, but there was a thick, blood-soaked bandage on his left arm and shoulder, and blood could also be seen on his back where a rapidly spreading red stain coloured the grey cloak a dark brown colour.  
  
He almost groaned aloud. The Elvenking would _not _be happy about this…  
  
Legolas took his friend's hand, forcing himself to smile when he saw that Aragorn's eyes were slowly drifting shut while a dwarf healer was trying to fasten a bandage on his shoulder wound.  
"I am just fine, my friend. Geran is dead, and I even found something you might like to see again."  
  
The dwarf king raised his eyes along with the young human, and almost closed them when he saw the silver haired elf stand in front of them, swaying slightly and flanked by two horses that were eyeing him and his men hostilely. The elf that was supposed to stay with the horses. The elf he had _promised _his master healer would stay with the horses. Dáin slowly shook his head. O Mahal, why him?  
  
Aragorn just stared at the silver haired elf, clearly not believing what his eyes were seeing.  
"You are dead," he whispered softly, grey eyes huge and slightly glazed in his face. "You are dead!" He slowly closed his eyes and opened them again, blinking up at the tall figure of the elf. Confusion creased his brow when he finally asked, "Celylith? You … how …"  
  
Celylith smiled down on the young human, deciding that he was getting slightly tired of that reaction. He inconspicuously grabbed his horse's mane to remain standing, figuring that it would be neither graceful nor befitting an elven warrior if he fainted now.  
"You need more than a little arrow to get rid of me, Estel, you should know that."  
  
The ranger's face slowly broke into a smile, and he minutely shook his head.  
"First Adruran and then you … too many surprises … for one day…"  
  
Legolas who had leaned back against the boulder forced his eyes to open, searching his friend's fever-flushed face.  
"Adruran?"  
  
"He's gone, he left," Aragorn mumbled, unable to fight off the darkness any longer. "It's … a long … st…"  
  
He lost consciousness in mid-sentence, and Legolas leaned forward a little, anxiously feeling his friend's pulse. He sighed with relief when he found one, and straightened up to meet the concerned faces of the dwarves around him.   
  
"He lives." The relief of finding Aragorn alive was taking its toll, and the last of his strength vanished. Unconsciousness began to wrap its misty talons around his mind, but he fought it off for a second longer, looking earnestly at the dwarven healer. "He has a fever … there are some infected slashes on his chest and back … and I don't think he found any water, he is dehydrated…"  
  
"We will care for him – and all of you," Dáin assured him, giving the elf who was obviously just losing his fight with unconsciousness a serious look. "My healers will do what they can. These men will never trouble any of us again, that I promise you."  
  
Legolas stared at the face of the dwarf king, noting with some surprise that it was beginning to blur in front of his eyes. His voice seemed to come from a very long distance away, and try as he might, he just couldn't understand what he was saying. With an inward shrug he gave in to the blackness and let himself be carried away with it, deciding that, after all, he had never understood the dwarves, so this was nothing exceptional.  
  
King Dáin watched how the elven prince's eyes rolled back into his skull and his head fell to the side against the rock he was leaning against, consciousness finally fleeing his torn body, something the dwarf had been secretly expecting since he had laid eyes on him. It was a miracle he had remained conscious as long as he had.  
  
Slowly his eyes travelled over Strider's unconscious body, over to Prince Legolas' and then to that of Lord Celylith who looked as if he wasn't far behind. He suppressed another groan.  
  
Dofur would have his head for this.  
  
  
  
  
  
**TBC...  
  
  
  
  
  
** _gonnhirrim - 'Masters of Stone', dwarves  
mellonamin - my friend  
  
  
  
  
_**Well, the men got what they deserved. *nods contently* I hope you're not too cross that I let him live, I liked him, kind of. Plus, I was running out of ideas to kill the men, and it would have been very much cliché if all of the bad guys died again, right? Right. So, essentially he was very lucky. *g* And I just might use him again in a future story - then he would be very unlucky... *g* Okay, so stay tuned for the next chapter, which wraps up everything nicely and which should be here Monday-ish**. **Might even be Sunday. Perhaps. As always, reviews help. *g* So, please? Pretty please?**  
  
  
  


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**Additional A/N:  
  
Ellemire2** - Well, the ending was one of these things that somehow had got stuck in my head, and so I had to write it. It made the chappie horribly long, but hey, there was nothing I can do... *g* Thanks for reviewing!  
**XsilicaX** - I agree, I didn't think it was a realy cliffy myself, but I know you people. No matter how nice my endings are, somebody will always yell "Cliffy! You're mean!" or something like that. So I've just accepted that all my endings appear to be cliffies, in a way... LOL, Celylith falling off his horse right onto Geran? That's an interesting idea... *g* *reads her idea of what will happen* Ah well, that doesn't sound _that_ wrong. Parts of it I mean, and I really like the idea to give Celylith a medal - he certainly earned one... And I'm sure Estel would LOVE to lie down in a bed right now, but unfortunately they are in the middle of nowhere where there ARE no beds! *g* Poor ranger... And you don't have to feel bad about pointing things out to me, really. English isn't my first language, so there are bound to be some mistakes in the whole thing. And if nobody tells me, everybody will laugh about me, so thank you for telling me! *huggles Cathy* Thanks!  
**Dragonfly** - Yes, they have made it just in time. Good little dwarvies. *pats their heads* Thanks a lot for reviewing!  
**Tapetum Lucidum** - *winces* No, Thranduil and Elrond would NOT have been happy - and they _will_ not be happy once they hear about it... I thought it was a pretty good plan myself, or it would have been had it included anyone else than Aragorn. That boy attracts trouble like nothing else... *g* LOL, yes, I would have been _slightly_ surprised too if an elf barged into my tent, waving a knife and looking as if he had spent the last few days in Minas Morgul. Only slightly, of course... *g* And I WILL tell Geran that Legolas does in fact belong to you, but to be honest, I don't think he'll believe me. And that quote wasn't from PotC! Nu-uh! *looks sheepishly* Okay, maybe it was...  
**Coreinha - ***in the process of being dragged around by an excited Cor* Uh, thank you, it's great you liked the chapter - could you let go of me please? Just a question? Please? *snatches dwarves, Legolas, Aragorn and Celylith back* No! How many times have I... *trails off* Ah well, you can have them back after the chappie, okay?  
**Nikara** - *g* Poor Estel indeed. I think right now he would take _any_ foul potion Elrond could come up with! *blushes* Thank you so much for your kind words, and it's really great you enjoy this so much! I hope you'll like this next chapter as well!  
**Andboriel Swann** - Indeed, the dwarves are coming, and not a moment too soon... And yes, I agree, it wasn't a real cliffy. But I've learned that, no matter how nice I end a chapter, someone will jump up and yell "That _was_ a cliffy!", so I just say it's a cliffy and everybody's happy... Thanks a lot for the review!  
**Aratfeniel** - But why stop being such a lunatic when it's so much fun? I talk to myself all the time, and to my laptop, and to my computer, and to screwdrivers, and to... And still: I'm perfectly normal! *g* Well, if you only have 20-30 minutes on the computer then I hope you're a fast reader, because this chapter's even longer than the last. Unfortunately. *grrr*   
**Gwyn** - You're right, sometimes they are indeed incredibly lucky. But only after they've had the worst luck of the past age... *g* Thanks a lot, my family's back to normal - or as normal as we were before, which is not very normal. It was all my brother's fault anyway... *trails off* Men.  
**CrazyLOTRfan** - Yes, the dwarves are here. Good little dwarves. And yes, we are going to have a nice little reunion where Legolas faints when seeing his friend ... Just kidding, don't worry. Would have been fun, though... *g*   
**Mouse5** - *evil grin* Yes, Legolas is slightly surprised at the moment... I have no idea why FF.net does the things it does, it happens quite a lot that it doesn't notify people that someone's updated. *shrugs* It's a mystery, and it will forever remain that way if you ask me... I hope you had fun watching PotC! It's a very nice movie, and Johnny Depp is a GOD. I mean it. A GOD.  
**Strider's Girl** - Yes, so many questions... What will the dwarves do? What will Legolas do? What will Celylith do? Ah, we may never know - unless we read the chapter! *g* Thanks a lot for all your reviews!  
**Mer** - Ah, the reunion with Celylith ... yes, that's quite sweet. I like Celylith, did I mention that? *huggles elven warrior* Thank you for reviewing, they do encourage me! Really!  
**Shaz1** - *g* Thanks a lot! It's always nice to hear that someone likes my weird little story! Thanks a lot for letting me know you like it - I would even have been happy if you'd said that you didn't like it, since I'm addicted to reviews, but that's another story... *g*  
**Leggylover03** - *sighs* I knew you would say that. Aragorn pain... But then again, we have even more Aragorn pain in this chappie, so you should like this one as well. Thanks btw, the family thing had resolved itself - more or less. I didn't find a steak knife in my laptop, so that's something... *g*  
**Alex Mistress Squirrel** - *buries head in hands* I know! It's long - too long! I just couldn't finish it any sooner, I don't know why either ... it's the characters' fault, I swear! *blushes* "The Queen of Suspense" - I like that! Thanks a lot! Now I feel _really_ important...  
**Zinnith** - Oh, I know what it's like! I like cliffies only when I write them, when I have to read them they transform me into a quivering mass on the ground that can't think straight for days... *g* Mutant hamsters? I think I know them as well - they eat the easiest words when I want to write them, such as "suspect" or something like that! Once I thought for ten minutes until I remembered that! And without my faithful little dictionary I never go anywhere - unless the hamsters have eaten the words that is, of course... *g* Thanks a lot for your reviews! I really enjoyed them!  
**Fliewatuet** - Yup, the dwarves are very good at dramatic entrances. Must have been the whole Battle of Five Armies thing... *g* And yes, Legolas and Aragorn could use a warm bed, healers, good luck, athelas, a miracle, Getorate, Red Bull, water, a blanket, an elven army, kevlar vests and MANY other things - unfortunately they don't have them, which makes it more enjoyable for us. *shakes head* Poor little things. And I _will_ give them a break! A bit later... *g*  
**Cestari** - You're quite right, you know. They either have horribly bad luck or very very good luck. *shrugs* They never do anything half way, do they? *g* Great you still like the stories, thank you very much for all your reviews!  
**Halo** - *sighs tiredly and grabs the back of Halo's shirt* You - are - not - to - hurt - my - characters - until - I - allow - you - to! Understood? Believe it or not, I NEED Geran and Hanar, at least for a little while, okay? So, calm down, put away your hammer and read the next bit, okay? Okay. *g*  
**Imbefaniel** - Uh, my review replies cheer you up? *looks at the nonsense she's written* Okay, if it does... Well, I hope you're alright, that I didn't anger you too much and that this chapter is soon enough to make sure that you don't borrow Geran's toy. *g*   
**Cara** - Well, yes, on first glance it really appears that Adruran is losing it, right? I mean, really, it's understandable, the things he has to deal with ... insolent subordinates ... elven princes and rangers ... dwarves ... demon-horses... *g* I have to admit, the Labrador puppy in infinitely scarier than deatht threats, but I have to tell you that I am immune to the puppy dog look! We have a Retriever, so I'm used to that particular look... *g* Thanks a lot for the review!  
**TrinityTheSheDevil** - Yes, indeed, Aragorn is quite hurt at the moment. I don't know how he does it either, it just happens. *shrugs* Must be his good looks. *huggles her carefully* I hope you're better now?! Colds are quite nasty! But your sounds ... interesting! Tiny rangers floating around your head? I don't think that that's a good sign ... *g*  
**TigerLily713** - Thank you! Detail is what makes a story readable, that's what I think anyway. There are lots of good plots and storylines out there which just die because there's no detail... *sighs* It's quite sad, actually... I hope you'll like this bit as well!  
**Asha Dreamweaver** - *blushes* I'm not brilliant! I'm brilliantly insane, maybe, but brilliant ... nah. Thanks for saying it anyway! *g* And I do agree: One Cornallar was more than enough, I don't think that ME is ready for a second one. Well, let's just say that Legolas is slightly surprised by recent developments, but he's quite good at adapting. *pats elven prince's head* Good little elf. Thanks for all your reviews, btw! *huggles*  
**Teddybear888** - Well, even a small review is better than no review! Thank you, I'm glad you're enjoying this!  
**Critternut** - OF COURSE I'm replying to reviews this chapter. It was a once-only thing last time - I hope. *g* Family can indeed be very stressful, and it's twice as bad when your parents are divorced. *shudders* It's makes it VERY complicated! And I agree, Legolas and Estel are very lucky that the dwarves came, otherwise they would be quite dead right now. Lucky them. *huggles* Thanks a lot for all your reviews!  
**Sirithiliel** - LOL, Legolas is a wizard? Well, he's immortal, so you only need to imagine a beard, a staff and a pointy hat! I'm sorry, I didn't even know you were writing a story. I have so little time online, especially when I'm writing myself, that I hardly have the chance to check out other stories - I haven't even read Cassia's newest one! *shakes head* Sad, that's what it is... If I have a little time to spare I'll read yours, I promise. So that would be in a year or two... *g*  
**Jazmin3 Firewing** - Uhm, I'm sorry? *inches backwards* It's not me that loves evil cliffies, it's my alter ego! Really! She makes me do all these evil things! *gulps* You will resurrect (almost spelt correctly! *g*) Glorfindel's balrog? Okay, that does NOT sound very healthy... Hope this is soon enough then?  
**Sam** - Thank you very much for telling me you like this twisted little story! It's always wonderful to hear that someone likes what you write - reviews really help me a lot. I hope you like this bit as well, and thanks again for reviewing!  
**A Person** - Thanks a lot, the family thing has reslved itself, more or less and as much as it can, I guess. It's great to hear that you still like the story, just one question: What's a 'maush pit'? It didn't make much sense to me...  
**Bailey** - What do you mean what took me so long? I updated on time, didn't I? And there's still that thing called RL that can get really annoying if you don't pay it the due attention... *g* Hmm, what took the dwarves so long ... theire legs are quite short and so... No, J/k, it's not their fault, it's my alter ego's. She wanted the dwarves to arrive at the last possible moment, so... *g* I think the plan would have been good had both of them been fine, but as it was you're right: It was stupid. And Legolas wanted to call the horses at the end, but the dwarves barged in so he couldn't. And it would have been stupid if he'd told Adruran and Co. that he was planning to call them, huh? I mean, element of surprise and all that? *g*   
**Amelie** - Oh, please do not get your mother cross with you because you want to review! It's better to have one review less than to have a strangled reviewer... *g* Kill Celylith? Hmm, I never contemplated that, but now that you mention it, it's a very nice idea... *g* J/k. Oh, I have watched Ice Age and I loved it! Sid - Lord of the Flames... *starts giggling* A very funny movie... *takes all purpose stick, a fake smile on her face* Oh ... thank you ... just what I always wanted ... how very thoughtful of you... *g* And I did NOT take many quotes from the movie. I admit that "You forget your place" is from PotC, but it's not as if they have a copyright on it or something! *mumbles under her breath* Did not...   
**Lita of Jupiter** - Hmm, why did you need to pluck up your courage to read my stories? It's not as if they bite or something! At least I hope so... Anyway, great you decided to read them, I hope you'll enjoy the rest of this as well! Thanks a lot for reviewing!  
**Firniswin** - LOL, the dwarves are 'small...and...big hearted..and they live in caves'? That's indeed a very interesting desciption - accurate nonetheless! Great you got used to the cliffies though, I think that's the only way you can survive reading my weird little stories! And I like your reviews! There's nothing wrong with them! Thank you! *huggles* Don't stop reviewing, I would miss you!  
**Itheilden** - *darkly* Oh yes, they will. Get themselves killed one day, I mean. They're trouble-magnets, that's what they are! *shakes head* The two of them, honestly... Thanks a lot for reviewing, you can't imagine how much they encourage me!  
**Elenora1** - *grabs Elenora before she can be blown away by her story* Ha! Gotcha! You don't get away that easily! *g* I am very sorry about the crease in your backside, but I don't even try to keep you on your edge of your seat! It's my alter ego, I swear! Believe me, it is my pleasure of sharing my demented little stories with the rest of you, and I hope that this chapter doesn't diappoint you. *sweatdrops* Killing people is always quite hard...  
**Helen T** - I know. FF.net hates me and doesn't tell people I've updated and doesn't let them review and stuff like that - it's typical! But then again, I hate it right back, so I guess it's okay... *g* For Thranduil's reaction you will have to wait a bit longer I fear, but the rest of your questions should be answered!  
**Ellyrianna** - Yes, Legolas can be very self-sacrificing from time to time, it's really something he has to learn to cope with, that death wish. I mean, really... *shakes head* Stubborn elf. LOL, me too, I mean I wouldn't have left the cave in the first place if I would have been Aragorn! He's reckless and stupid, that's what he is... And yes, I'm still giving away Nólad clones, so *hands her a Nólad* here you go! Have fun together! (not what YOU think! *g*) The thing is though: I don't realy understand how he could be a healer in your story, since he ... well, he wasn't a healer at all? I don't really get it, I mean, his character DIED. As in dead. And I don't think he was in Lórien more than a couple of times. You may of course take his name and everything, I mean, it's not as if I have a copyright, but I don't really get it, I'm afraid... Oh, you're learning Hebrew? I was contemplating that myself once, but somehow was too busy. I was always interested in the alühabet though, I love to learn different alphabet, I love the Greek one... *g* Okay, I'm insane and shutting up now.  
**Firnsarnien** - It wasn't a bad cliffy, at least that's what I've been told. *nods* It's your vivid imagination, that's all. Me? Enjoying heart-stopping moments or torturing my readers? NEVER... *g* Great to see that you're sitting back MEEKLY in your chair; I hope this update is soon enough? Just so you can remain sitting there, meekly... *g*  
**Tithen Min** - Yes, OF COURSE I'm mad! You never even reviewed ONCE!? Bad, bad person! *g* J/k, of course I'm not mad. I'm just glad you decided to review, that's all. I don't think you're mad, at least not madder than the rest of us, and thank you very much for all your kind words! It's great to hear that you like my weird litle stories! Thanks again for reviewing!  
**Zam** - Uhm, Celylith is ...busy. That's what he is. Don't worry though, he'll be in this chapter so you can smother him with your love again... *g* Naugrimaha, huh? So, Naugrim = Dwarves, or Stunted People, and aha = rage. So, dwarf-rage or something like that, right? Right? Mhahaha, I didn't even have to look it up because I knew what aha means sine it's the name of a Tengwar letter and... *trails off* All things you don't want to know. LOL, you're summoning lightning? Uh... *ducks and watches as Zam is burnt to a crisp* That's what I thought. *grabs her before she can hug Gwemyr to death* Back, evil girl! I still need him! Snikdul! *grumbles* Where is that orc horde when you need it? But I'm afraid that neither you, nor Rando and his hate fish shall make me tell you who Adruran's lord is - that's for the next story, sorry... *g*   
**Carrie5** - I still have to get used to the 5 behind your name. For a while I didn't recognise you... *g* An American History quiz? Uh, that wouldn't work out very well for me. I wouldn't get past the declaration of independence, I'm afraid.. *g* Great you liked the brush, Legolas deserved it too, being the prissy elf that he is. *nods* He did. I for my part pity Celylith most of all, since he had to put up with BOTH of them, which is really enough to drive anyone insane... Glad to see that you're back, really, I missed you! I shal go and read that chapter of yours immediately - or make that soon... *g*  
**Singing Wolf** - Hmm, just one at a time? Where's the fun in THAT? *evil grin* But I've done that, with Legolas in chapter ... 8/9 I think and with Aragorn in chapter 11/12, besides, now it's time for the great finale, normal rules don't apply... *g* Thanks a lot for the review, it's always great to hear that someone enjoys my weird little stories! Thanks!  
**NaughtyNat** - Oh, you're resisting the lure of homework for my story? Thanks! *g* And I agree, Legolas should have known that Aragorn would get caught, but hey: Never underestimate the power of positive thinking! It's truly a good thing that he's good at bluffing, I could never keep a straight face! I'm a dismal poker player too... *sighs sadly* What do you mean, character deaths? Do you mean Celylith? Jeez, you will never let me live that one down, huh? He's fine, okay? *looks at swaying elven warrior* Ah well, he will be. In time. *evil grin*  
**Aron** - Hmm, I think that you only can survive these situations they find themselve in all the time IF you take some time to care for your best friend. Plus it's fun to write, but that's a different story... LOL, Aragorn ripping the bad guys to pieces, as Chewie of course, that's a very interesting idea indeed! *g* Somehow I can really imagine it... Oh, that's too much! Legolas is squirrel now? C-3PO was fine, but a squirrel... *shakes head* We're insane. Indeed, never deviate from the plan, we all know how that's bound to end - but he didn't listen to me either. *sighs* Stubborn ranger... And yes, Geran is indeed rather smart when it comes to tormenting people - that makes him dangerous. The smart ones are always the most dangerous, just look at Adruran. LOL, the cavalry has arrived, in form of small, furious dwarves. Better than nothing, I guess! Thanks once again for all your wonderful reviews, I'm enjoying them immensely!  
**Lady Sandry** - *nods* Yeah, we're always very quick with judging other people, aren't we? It's truly good Legolas saw how wrong that is... *g* Oh, and I _definitely_ would love to have a friend like Aragorn. Or better yet, to _have_ Aragorn... *dreamy sigh* Okay, let's change the topic, shall we? *g* And yes, you're right, it's very hard to write emotional men/elves. The reunion was very hard to write, because I mean, they're still males, aren't they? And males are stupid... Never fear, I would never permanently hurt Aragorn or Legolas, I'm not THAT stupid! And thanks, the family crisis resolved itself, I think...  
**Alexa** - Yup, Legolas sometimes really is stupid, but that makes him so adorable, doesn't it? Uhm, the playing-hockey-with-a-cold-thing sounds interesting - not really advisable, but interesting... *g* Great to see that you still like it, don't worry, your elf will be fine - eventually. I promise! *g* Hope you get better soon!  
  
**See? I replied to this lot! I'm very sorry not replying to the last chapter, but there really was no way I could. Thank you all very much for your wonderful reviews! You continually make my day! *huggles***   
  



	26. Shadows And Light

**Disclaimer: **For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.  
  
  
**A/N:  
  
And, once again, we've reached the last chapter. I still can't really believe it, since I always reach the point where I am absolutely sure that I will _never_ be able to end the bloody thing! *g*  
  
First, great to hear that you enjoyed Rashwe's little heroic, selfless, charitable deed so much, I guess deep down that demon horse has a human, uhm, elven-horsish heart after all! *g* I am also glad that you understand my motives for not killing Adruran. I felt pity for him for having had to put up with Geran and Co. all the time, and yes, he may appear in a later story, but certainly not in the next one; he'd be suicidal to be in that one, and, as we know, he is a _reasonable_ man...  
  
Which brings me to the next thing: The next story. As I said, I will indeed write a sequel to this, BUT it won't be out for at least a month. I know that that is evil and cruel and all kinds of other things, but a. I don't have time for writing another story now and b. I really need a break to replenish my 'creative energies' which have not exactly been depleted, but which will deliver much more amusing and evil results if given some time. I hope you understand, but before the end of October there's not much of a chance, I'm afraid. *hangs head* Sorry. For more details about the story read more after the chapter.  
  
I have to announce that neither Elrond nor the twins will make an appearance in this chapter, but come on, they are on the other side of the Misty Mountains and it's winter, so there. Sorry though, and I'll try to put them - or one or two of them - into the sequel. Promise.  
  
  
Very well then, on to the last chapter, which is, once again, too long, but I guess that's nothing surprising anymore... *g*   
We see various annoyed healers of various races,** **a little bit more of the dwarves, have some serious discussions between Aragorn and Legolas, I decided to put in Anardir who we last saw in Lake-town (if you can still remember who he is), and, finally, they get back to Mirkwood, something which doesn't please them all that much. I don't know why either... *evil grin*  
  
Enjoy and review, please!  
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Chapter 26  
  
  
Five days later, Legolas felt almost alive again, and he suspected that it was owed to equal parts to the fact that his wounds were slowly healing now that they had been tended with something else than water, and to the fact that, three days ago, they had been brought from Erebor to Dale, mainly because Celylith and he had threatened to escape and take Aragorn with them if the dwarves didn't let them go.  
  
The elven prince had to smile. He could still remember the small dwarven healer's face when they had threatened not only to leave their beds themselves, but also to take the young ranger who still hadn't had regained consciousness then since they had left the humans' camp. Dofur had glared at them so darkly that Legolas had been eerily reminded of Hithrawyn, the master healer at his own home, but in the end he had been forced to relent when he had seen that the two elves were perfectly serious and intending to carry out their threat.  
  
They had taken their leave from the Lonely Mountain, accompanied by a small escort, the relieved sighs of its population and King Dáin's promise that he would visit Dale three days later when they were planning to travel home to say his goodbyes to them – or rather to Aragorn, as Legolas and Celylith suspected, since the king hadn't appeared overly saddened to see them go.  
  
King Bard had been most helpful as well, insisting that they stayed in the palace and offering the help of his best healers. This time, Legolas had not objected, and so they had spent the past days resting, visiting King Bard's gardens and generally enjoying the fact that they were no longer cooped up under a mountain. Both he and Celylith just hadn't been able to stand the small, cave-like rooms in the dwarven king's halls anymore, and Legolas was sure that the dwarves hadn't been so unhappy about their departure – they would probably have thrown them out a long time earlier had it not been for Aragorn.  
  
Aragorn.   
  
The fair haired elf sighed. That human had to be the worst, most annoying, thick-headed patient any healer had ever seen, and the fact that he had very nearly died shortly after their arrival in Erebor had apparently done nothing to change the ranger's attitude. Legolas himself hadn't been conscious then, for he had woken up almost a day after the battle, but from what the dwarf king, his advisors, Celylith and that other dwarf, Frór, had said, it had been a very near thing. The young man's strength had been exhausted by blood loss, dehydration and his wounds up to the point where his body could hardly withstand the fever that had set in with a vengeance shortly after they had left the humans' camp, and for a long while they had feared for his life until the fever had gone down.  
  
Legolas let his gaze wander over the snow covered roofs of the town of Dale, enjoying the fresh air and watching the sunrise. He was sitting on the roof of Bard's palace, something that would have caused his healers to wring their hands in horror, so it was essential that no-one found him here. The poor humans did enough of that already, he mused with a small smile; he had yet to meet a healer, be he or she dwarf, elf or human, that did not wring his or her hands when caring for his human friend.  
  
"Legolas?"  
  
Celylith's soft voice made the prince turn half around, and with a quick look at their surroundings to make sure that they were not being observed he motioned the silver haired elf to join him. The other moved slowly and carefully, wincing once in a while when his back protested, but finally he had made his way over to his prince.  
  
Legolas studied his friend's face closely as the other elf settled down next to him, noting to his relief that the cuts and bruises were all but healed and that only faint marks remained that would disappear soon as well. When he had first seen the arrow wound on Celylith's back his first, rather powerful reaction had been to wish that Geran was still alive so that he could kill him again, and that he could take his time with it this time. He knew that only Celylith's stubbornness had enabled him to walk at all, a fact about which Dofur had not been happy, by the way. Since Celylith had been unconscious as well when they had been brought to the mountain, Legolas had been present when Dofur had given his childhood friend a piece of his mind a day later, and the dwarf's booming voice that had lectured him on recklessness, keeping one's promises and general elven stupidity was something that neither of them would forget in the near future.  
  
"You look better," the elven prince stated quietly, smiling at the other elf. He was still so glad that Celylith was alive that he found it hard to stop smiling when he saw him at times.  
  
"I feel better as well, thank the Valar," Celylith retorted, one hand unconsciously holding the large bruise he had sustained when Geran had kicked him five days ago. "Though I have to admit that feeling worse than I did the past few days would be near impossible."  
  
Legolas shook his head, his smile widening.  
"Everything is possible when one is travelling with Aragorn, that is something I have learned the hard way. Absolutely everything."  
  
Celylith gave him a wry grin and nodded.  
"Aye, my lord, I have to agree. How the two of you do it will forever remain a mystery to me."   
  
"Has he woken already?" Legolas asked, returning his eyes to the peaceful scene in front of him.  
  
The silver haired elf snorted, merriment shining in his eyes.  
"Oh yes."   
  
Legolas raised a questioning eyebrow and so he continued, a grin spreading over his face.  
"Yes, he woke up a while ago, and I am sure he has driven at least one healer to madness already. They are still trying to convince him that he isn't fit to travel yet, but you know him. All he does is nod politely once in a while and continue packing his things, almost falling over in the process I might add." He gave Legolas a furtive look. "I thought you had come here to escape that?"  
  
The elven prince frowned as he shook his head.  
"No, not really. I came here to refrain from taking hold of him and shaking some sense into that stubborn human."  
  
Celylith raised a dark silver eyebrow, amusement in his eyes.  
"That wouldn't work. You tried that yesterday."  
  
Legolas gave him a dark look and smiled finally.  
"I know. He says he wants to get to Mirkwood as soon as possible, and I cannot say I disagree with that."  
  
At the mention of his home Celylith looked at his prince, a wary expression stealing over his eyes.  
"Have you … informed … the king already?"  
  
Legolas winced openly, one hand beginning to fiddle with the bandage that wound around his left arm. The healers in Erebor and then here in Dale had consistently stated that the bone had been set correctly to begin with, but that the blow he had received during the fight had done considerable damage. None of them could say if his arm would fully heal, and Legolas knew that was yet another reason for Aragorn to return to Mirkwood as soon as possible, so that elven healers could tend his arm, even though the man tried to project an air of optimism whenever Legolas was around. The elven prince shortly closed his eyes. Only time would tell, but he had to admit that, deep in his heart, he was frightened that his arm might not heal, more than a little bit.  
  
Realising that Celylith was still waiting for an answer, he blinked and turned to face his friend, a wry grimace on his face.  
"King Bard and King Dáin both informed him of what happened here, and I added a small note saying that we were all fine and would return as soon as possible." He stopped shortly and took a deep breath. "His answer got here this morning with a carrier pigeon. It was very short."   
  
Celylith winced. It was never a good sign when his liege gave curt answers; usually it was a sign of impending doom.  
"What did he say?"  
  
"That he informed your father that you were well and," Legolas gulped, "that he also sent word to Rivendell. And that he is expecting us back in a few days."   
  
Celylith closed his eyes and shortly contemplated jumping off the roof; this way it would be over soon at least. It was worse enough that King Thranduil had told his father what had happened, but he had also informed Lord Elrond…  
  
"A Elbereth!" he muttered quietly. "That was all?"  
  
Legolas nodded, swallowing hard. He knew as well what it meant that his father's message had barely been longer than two sentences.  
  
Celylith's face paled and he shook his head hopelessly.  
"We're doomed."  
  
"We are," the other elf agreed, not being able to think of a single thing he could say that would indicate otherwise. Their fathers would kill them once they got back, that was as certain as the sunrise in the morning.  
  
His companion shook his head, forcefully taking his thoughts off his liege and his father. There was nothing they could do about that now anyway, he decided, and frantically searched for something he could talk about that wouldn't remind him of the fate that awaited them in the dark woods of their home.  
  
"Has the leader of the men been found?" he asked his prince, his hands balling to fists next to his body. He had seen what these men had done to Legolas, and only his own weakness and King Dáin's – admittedly reasonable – words had stopped him from killing the four men that had survived the battle. None of them would speak or even tell them their names, and the only thing that could be gathered from them was the fact that they were so afraid of their lord that they would rather die than betray him, judging by the terrified expression in their eyes every time someone asked them a question.  
  
"Adruran? No," Legolas shook his head slowly. "He just left and disappeared, it seems."  
  
"Why?" Celylith shook his head. "I cannot understand it! He could have killed Estel! You two destroyed their plans and yet he let him live?"  
  
The elven prince smiled slightly, a somewhat dark smile when he remembered the short conversations they had had with the human captain.  
"It would have been unnecessary to kill him," he explained softly. "It wouldn't have changed anything; there was no reason." He narrowed his eyes when he remembered the words Aragorn had used when he had told them what had happened after Hanar's death. "It would have been … unreasonable."  
  
Celylith's eyebrows rose and he blinked at his prince before he shook his head slowly.  
"I will never understand _edain_. Never, as long as I live."  
  
"Neither will I," Legolas shook his head as well, a real smile spreading on his face. "But that makes the thing interesting, doesn't it?"  
  
Celylith grinned and was about to retort something when they heard hurried steps that quickly drew closer, and they turned in time to see a female healer approach whose face was contorted with a mixture of anger, worry and annoyance. She sighed when she stepped onto the balcony beneath them, her voice exasperated.  
  
"Prince Legolas, Lord Celylith, have you seen my patient? Mr. Strider has escaped again … what are you doing on the _roof_?"  
  
She stared at the two fair beings' innocent faces, noting for the first time that they were in fact sitting comfortably on the roof. She placed her hands on her hips, eyes blazing, and gave them a look darker than the interior of a dwarf cave.  
  
"My lords, I must insist that you come down immediately! I will not allow you to break your necks or tear my colleagues' stitches on your last day in my care! If you insist on leaving and dying because you're too weak to stay on a horse, you are very welcome to do so, but you will not do it here and now!"  
  
The two elves exchanged a somewhat chagrined grin and slowly began to climb down from the roof, dropping one by one sure-footedly onto the railing of the balcony, acting as if the narrow wooden construction was in fact several feet wide. The elderly woman continued to glare at them, but couldn't resist the charm of two innocent elven smiles that seemingly outshone the morning sun and slowly began to shake her head.  
  
"We are sorry, my lady," Legolas said with a small bow. "We were not trying to make your arduous duties even harder on you. Speaking of which," he slowly walked the healer back into the palace, hoping that she had already forgotten about the small incident, "when did the ranger disappear?"  
  
The woman shook her head, deciding in an instant that elves definitely were the worst patients she had ever had; she never seemed to be able to stay angry with one of them. Or with the young ranger, for that matter…  
  
"About ten minutes ago, my lord," she answered, scowling slightly. "He had just finished packing his things. I stepped outside just a few seconds to get some fresh bandages to have a look at these cuts once again before you left, and when I came back, he was…"  
  
"Gone," both elves echoed, a long-suffering expression on their fair faces.  
  
"Precisely," she nodded, her eyes narrowing slightly in annoyance. "This is already the third time, and I have never even heard a thing! I really need to have a look at him again, he is still far from healed and weak from the fever." She turned imploring eyes on the two elves. "Do you know where he could be? I was half hoping he would be with you."  
  
Legolas pursed his lips and suppressed a tired sigh. Aragorn could at least tell _them _when he wanted to escape… He turned back to the healer and gave her a reassuring smile.  
"Do not worry, my lady, we will find him and return him to you, and if we have to drag him back."  
  
The woman smiled in relief, curtsying before the two elf lords.  
"Thank you, your Highness. I will be waiting for you in the healing wing."  
  
With that the healer turned on her heel and walked off, mumbling under her breath about insufferable rangers and very painful things that could happen once she got her hands on them. The two elves looked after her for a moment, smiling slightly when they heard the very interesting things she was threatening their human friend with before they looked at each other, both raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Where could he be?" Celylith asked, frowning in thought. "I am _not _chasing him through the palace again!"  
  
"Neither am I," Legolas agreed grimly. "Let's split up. We will find him, he cannot have got far."  
  
Celylith nodded and disappeared round a corner while the fair haired prince headed for the nearest staircase.  
  
"Oh yes," Legolas grumbled as he slowly descended the stairs, not wanting to aggravate his healing back or ribs. "We will find him, and may the Valar help him when I get my hands on that thick-headed little human."  
  
  
  
  
Legolas eventually would find his human friend, after enough time to make sure that he was thoroughly annoyed by the time he did. It took the elf far longer than it should have, but it appeared that Aragorn had nearly perfected the art of disappearing off the face of Arda and avoiding all healers on the way.  
  
After he had searched all rooms the human could somehow got access to, the courtyard, the stables and even parts of the cellar, Legolas sat down on a conveniently placed barrel in the wine cellar and thought long and hard. He wasn't very familiar with the palace and its layout, but then again, neither was Aragorn.  
  
He had the vague feeling that he knew why Aragorn had sought solitude, for he had been quiet and rather withdrawn ever since he had woken up. And if he was right, then he would be someplace where he could think and that would calm him…  
  
So it came that Legolas quickly made his way over to the royal gardens that were situated next to the palace, or at least the part that was already planted. The palace was not finished yet, and only parts of the spacious parks were finished. In the most secluded part he found his human friend, next to a small stream that was not frozen over since the water was used to heat the palace.  
  
Legolas smiled slightly when he looked at the young ranger. Aragorn sat on a wooden bench that was beautifully carved and still so new that the wood seemed almost white in the morning sun. The human wore a thick cloak – at least he had thought a little, the elf thought with some exasperation – that hid the numerous bandages Legolas knew adorned a large part of his body, but the slashes in one of his cheeks and the large bruise on the other were plain to see for everyone that had eyes to do so.  
  
The young man was still pale and looked thinner than he had before, both due to the fever that had raged in his body only a few days prior. Legolas hadn't been awake for the first day of their stay in Erebor and had therefore missed the time when the fever had been so high that it had caused the human to hallucinate so that he called for his family and spoke with and of things that only he could see, and the elf was rather thankful for it, especially considering what Celylith had told him, a worried and slightly haunted look in his dark blue eyes.  
  
Legolas' smile disappeared when he saw the almost tormented expression on his friend's face, and he stepped closer, making sure he made enough noise that Aragorn could hear him in his preoccupied and weakened state.  
"Good morning, my friend."  
  
Aragorn turned quickly, gripping the bench tightly when the fast movement made his head spin softly, a rather forced smile on his lips.  
"A good morning to you, Legolas! Let me guess: That dragon that calls herself a healer has sent you to drag me back to the healing wing so she can force even more of her evil concoctions down my throat." When the elf merely shrugged, he moaned in mock terror. "Ilúvatar, why me?" Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, he added, "How did you find me?"  
  
At that Legolas' smile made a reappearance, and he shrugged, motioning at the softly rippling spring.  
"I thought you would be seeking solitude, _mellonamin_. And this is the closest you can get to Rivendell in this place."  
  
"You know me too well, Legolas," the man sighed, dipping the fingertips of a bandaged hand into the lukewarm waters. "I miss the sound of running water, yet I don't notice it anymore when I'm at home." He looked up again, looking closely at the elf. "How are you?"  
  
The elven prince grimaced slightly, thinking about that question himself. After a moment he looked back at the man, shrugging.  
"As well as can be expected, I think. I will heal." He was rather convinced that it would take him quite a long time to so, but that was nothing he would tell his human friend now. "How are you?"  
  
"Fine," Aragorn said a little too quickly, apparently not even really listening to the question. "Now that the fever is gone I will heal as well, I suppose."  
  
Legolas did not comment on this, mainly because he didn't want to call his friend a liar, and merely sat down next to the man, eyeing him furtively. There was … a shadow on his friend's face, as if he was struggling with something and was trying to hide it from him. The elven prince sighed inwardly. They were _not _doing that again!  
  
"What is it that is bothering you, my friend?" he asked after a few minutes, knowing full well that Aragorn would not volunteer any information. He looked at the man with narrowed eyes, already preparing his arguments for the very likely case that Aragorn would refuse to tell him. He was not waiting for weeks again for him to share his thoughts with him, watching how the problem was eating at his friend. Definitely not.  
  
Aragorn looked up, quickly hiding the guilt that was laying itself over his features.   
"Bothering? Me? Nothing, _mellonamin_, I was just trying to escape the healers for a bit, that's all…"  
  
Legolas would nearly have thrown up his hands in exasperation, the bandage that was tightly wrapped around his left arm and shoulder preventing it at the last moment. Never before had he met such an insufferably stubborn person!  
  
"You will tell me," he informed the dark haired human quietly, blue eyes boring into grey ones. "Now, or I swear by all the stars in the heavens that we will stay here for another week – which we should anyway, by the way – so you and the healers can find out which one of their potions is the most disgusting! And believe me, they are more than in the mood for it!"  
  
Aragorn looked into the elf's serious eyes, and when all he could see there was concern and quiet determination to carry out the threat he had just made, he lowered his head with a sigh. After a moment he somewhat wobbly rose to his feet and took a few steps away from his companion, looking at the waters that noisily flowed down the small channel and disappear round a corner a few dozen yards in the distance.  
  
"Have you ever hated what you are?" he began slowly, one hand pressed against his temple as if the thought pained him. "No," he continued, shaking his head, "You would not, how could you?"  
  
Legolas looked at his friend's back, clearly worried now.  
"What do you mean, Estel?"  
  
Aragorn took a deep breath and slowly turned around to face the elf, silver eyes dark and haunted.  
"What do you see when you look at me?"  
  
The elf wrinkled his brow, concern shining brightly in his eyes. Nevertheless he answered, speaking slowly and clearly, hoping to permeate whatever emotions had wrapped themselves around his friend's heart.  
  
"I see Estel Elrondion, brother of Elladan and Elrohir, the young human who brought joy and laughter back to the halls of Imladris. I see Aragorn, son of Arathorn, the one of his line that will claim the throne of Gondor for his own and be a great King of Men. I see Strider, the chieftain of the Dúnedain of the North; I see the man who has stood by me in more dangers than I could count. I see my friend I love like a brother; I see … I see you."  
  
The comfort Legolas had tried to give the man with his words did not seem to have reached him, for he only closed his eyes and shook his head.  
"A man. Yes, that is what I am."  
  
The elven prince looked at his friend helplessly, wishing that Aragorn's brothers or father were here at this moment. He knew of his problems concerning his human heritage, and he was aware of the fact that this last experience would have done little to increase his estimate of the human race, but he simply did not know what to tell him at the moment.  
  
"There is no reason to be ashamed of what you are, Aragorn. Your ancestry is a proud and noble one, the Men of Númenor…"  
  
"…fell to the Shadow, as all men seem to do!" Aragorn exclaimed heatedly, contempt on his face. "The more I see of the way of Men the more I begin to despise them, and I hate myself for it, but I cannot help it!"  
  
Legolas opened his mouth to speak, but the human raised his hand, effectively silencing him.  
  
"Look at what Men brought upon us once again! Celylith and you were almost killed, and for nothing more than some gold! Not even the dwarves are as obsessed with it as humans, and they are not as willing to kill for it either!"  
  
Aragorn shook his head slowly, hopelessness on his face.  
"You are right, I am a man, and a man's heart beats in my breast. The heart of Men, Legolas, is weak, that is what we have both been taught. Weak, greedy, easily corrupted and spiteful. What can you do when you see this with clear eyes and yet can not fight what you are? Cannot fight these things that war in your chest, struggle for domination over everything else? Power and money, my friend, are things all men crave. And I am but a man, as much as I sometimes wish to deny it. I am human, like they were."  
  
He stopped for a moment, looking at the speechless elf with dark eyes before he continued, his voice barely above a whisper now.  
  
"And I am even worse than these men could ever be, for they have only condemned themselves while my ancestors whose blood flows through my veins have condemned all of Middle-earth to the encroaching darkness. Yes, I am a man. And sometimes I hate myself for it."  
  
Legolas just sat on the wooden bench, so surprised that he could do nothing but stare at his human friend. Elbereth, he hadn't known his doubts and self-reproach ran so deep; he hadn't known how torn his friend was between the world of his childhood and the world in that he had to walk to fulfil a destiny he had never wanted…  
  
Finally he seemed to tear himself out of his trance, springing to his feet so quickly that his body didn't even have time to complain about the sudden movement. He grabbed the human by the shoulders, resisting the urge to shake him to make him see reason.  
  
"Stop it!" he demanded somewhat harshly, locking eyes with his friend. "You know that what you say is not true!" Aragorn obviously wanted to retort something, but Legolas shook his head almost angrily. "No, now you will listen to me, _dúnadan_!" He took a deep breath, briefly contemplating what in Elbereth's name he could say to convince his friend that his words had not been the truth.  
  
"Yet I agree with you to a certain degree: The heart of Men is weak."  
  
The young ranger looked at the elf's face in surprise. That was something he definitely hadn't expected him to say. Legolas tightened his grip on the man's uninjured shoulder, looking at him earnestly.  
  
"It may be true that humans are weaker than the firstborn, but we are not without fault either! Look at Celebrimbor and the other _Mírdain_ who trusted Annatar and forged the Rings of Power with his help, even though the High King and your father warned them against it! Had their thirst for knowledge and perfection not driven them to accept the Dark Lord's offers, this world would have been spared much, much darkness! Or look at Celebrimbor's grandfather Fëanor and the terrible oath he and his sons took to reclaim the Silmarils, the oath that resulted in the Kinslaying of Alqualondë and other dark things!"  
  
The elven prince looked hard at his friend, willing him to understand.  
  
"Elves fail as well, Aragorn, as do the other races that populate Arda. We are not above hate and greed and fear, and sadly there are many examples that prove that. And even if you are right and humans are weak, I know that _you_ are not. Neither your race nor your ancestry define you, son of Arathorn, only your actions do. I know that you do not desire power or money, and so do you." He smiled, shaking his head slightly. "Not all humans are alike, and there are some who are truly different, and you are one of them. Your heart is not weak, and neither could it ever be corrupted. I trust in you, Aragorn, and so should you. You are a good friend – and a good man. Never allow yourself to think differently."  
  
He looked into the slowly brightening eyes of his human friend and added after a second, playfully,  
  
"Or I will tell your brothers and allow them to beat some sense into you."  
  
At that a true smile spread over the other's cut and bruised face.  
"They would relish that chance, that much is certain." Aragorn looked at his elven friend with almost fearful eyes. "You mean what you just said?"   
  
"I do," the fair haired elf confirmed. "Your family and friends love you for what you are, Estel, not despite of what you are. These men killed and hurt many others out of greed, yes, and you are right, their hearts were cruel, treacherous and spiteful, but you are not one of them, and you never could be. You will see that in time as well, and until then you will have to trust in my word. Do you?"  
  
"Do I trust you?" the ranger asked surprised, the haunted expression in his eyes slowly diminishing. "You know that to be a foolish question, Legolas. Of course I trust you, with my life and that of my family, and I always will."  
  
He reached out and carefully placed a hand on his friend's uninjured shoulder, silver eyes serious and dark.  
"Thank you, my friend. How is it that you always know what to say to give me peace?"  
  
Legolas smiled smugly, deciding to keep a close eye on the young ranger in the near future. He hoped that Aragorn had indeed understood what he had been trying to tell him, but if he knew the man at all, he would brood over it for the next few days. Or weeks. Or months.  
  
"I am an elf," he announced haughtily as they slowly walked back into the direction of the palace, leaving the stream behind. "I am far older and wiser than you, young one."  
  
Aragorn scowled at the elf when he heard the hated term, unconsciously narrowing his eyes.  
"Oh, are you now? Why did it take you so long to find me then?"  
  
The elf suppressed a wide grin and forced a grimace of arrogant annoyance onto his face.  
"Do not overestimate your importance, human! I was in no hurry to find you."  
  
"You were not, elf? That is most peculiar, for I distinctly remember overhearing some servants that passed through the gardens that mentioned a nearly frantic elf that was turning the whole palace upside-down looking for someone."  
  
Legolas huffed, grabbing the man's elbow and steadying him when he threatened to lose his footing on the ice covered paths.  
"They must have confused me with Celylith. I was nowhere near 'nearly frantic'."  
  
Aragorn was about to shake off his friend's arm, but realised that he would end up on the ground if he did and reluctantly allowed the elf to steady him.  
"If you say so, o mighty Prince of Mirkwood, then it must be true."  
  
"Indeed," the elven prince agreed, deciding to ignore his human friend's tone of voice that was positively dripping with sarcasm. A wicked grin spread over his face when they reached the small gate that would lead them back into the courtyard, and he turned back to the human who had wrenched his arm out of his steadying grasp now. "Let's get back to the healing wing then, shall we?"  
  
The young ranger's face blanched slightly. Gilthoniel, that healer would kill him!   
"Uhm, my friend, I really have to look after my horse if we want to leave today, I haven't seen it for days and I'm quite sure it's worried by now…"  
  
Legolas grabbed the man's dark coat just in time to prevent him from disappearing round the corner of the kitchen building, displaying reflexes that were still a bit slower than normal but for a human still lightning-fast. The elf ignored the pleading expression on his friend's face and grabbed his arm again, careful not to press down too hard, afraid to aggravate any of the human's wounds.  
  
"Oh no," he shook his head as he steered Aragorn into the direction of the main building, "Don't even try it. I promised that charming lady to bring you back, and that is what I'll do."  
  
Aragorn snorted, eyes fixed on the palace as if he was dragged through the Morannon itself.  
"Lady? Charming? She's dragon, believe me…"  
  
Legolas' evil grin even widened.  
"Oh, I know, Strider," he told the man. "But you deserve it."  
  
Before Aragorn could reply, Celylith joined them, glaring darkly at the young human. He turned to his elven friend, a dark silver eyebrow raised mockingly.  
"So you have found him! Let me guess: He was in the gardens near the small spring."  
  
Legolas' mouth fell open, and he quickly closed it again when he heard the barely suppressed snicker from Aragorn's direction. He stared at his elven friend, both his eyebrows moving up his forehead seemingly on their own account.  
"Yes … how did you …"  
  
Celylith gave him a smug smile, suppressing the laughter that was building in his chest. Eru, to see his usually so composed prince like this was priceless!  
"Why, my lord, it was obvious, was it not?"  
  
"Obvious? _Obvious??_ It took me an hour to find him! Why didn't you say something!?"  
  
"You did not ask, my prince."  
  
"I did not _ask_?"  
  
Aragorn looked from one elven face to the other, deciding that they would hardly miss him if he left now. He was just slowly inching backwards, doing his best to become part of the stone wall, when two pairs of hands grabbed his cloak, and he looked up, straight at two stern elves who had apparently forgotten their argument. His eyes wandered back down to the fists that had taken a hold of the thick cloak he wore. He had _known _he shouldn't have taken it with him!  
  
"A nice try, Aragorn," Legolas smiled friendly at him, beginning to turn the man around to drag him up the stairs that led to the healing chambers.  
  
"Not bad at all," Celylith nodded approvingly. "I would almost have missed it."  
  
"One of these days, I will get away from the two of you. Count on it," the young ranger muttered darkly, allowing his elven friends to pull him up the stairs.   
  
All he received for an answer was the pealing, soft sound of elvish laughter, and he once again asked himself why he insisted on travelling with a pair of insane, evil mother hens. When he was dragged round the corner of the room where the healers were waiting, he decided that he would get back at them. He would tell Hithrawyn about every single injury the two of them had sustained since they had left Mirkwood, and then he would sit back and watch how they were dragged away by the master healer and his assistants, begging for mercy.  
  
A wicked feeling of anticipation grew inside of him, making it easier for him to ignore the female healer's tirade. Oh yes, that was what he would do. They could see how _they _liked it then.  
  
  
  
  
Three hours later Aragorn and the two elves were standing in the courtyard, ready to depart. It had been three very hectic, very busy hours, and all of King Bard's healers and several members of his serving staff would later swear that they were among the longest of their lives.  
  
But finally, all of the provisions had been made ready, all bags packed and all weapons collected, and the three young beings were ready to say their goodbyes. Legolas stood next to his two friends, consciously suppressing the urge to take out his bow again to make sure it had not been damaged. It had been returned to him after the battle by a young dwarf named Nabur, who had found it in one of the tents, therefore earning himself the unending gratitude of the elven prince who even smiled at the smaller being, something that still surprised both of them.  
  
Aragorn had been equally glad to have his sword back, not even daring to think about what his brothers would say if he lost their gift somewhere on the Lonely Mountain. That thought brought him back to the image of what his father would say or do when he received word from King Thranduil about what had happened here, and he suppressed a wince. He was quite happy that, right now, the mountain range of the Misty Mountains separated them whose passes were blocked with tons of ice and snow. The young human grimaced. He really hoped that they would stay that way until his father and brothers had calmed down a little…  
  
The ranger suddenly felt someone stare at him, and he turned slightly to the right, already knowing what he would see. It was as he had thought: Rashwe was standing behind Legolas with the other horses, looking at him with a smug, patronising look on his face. Aragorn suppressed a tired groan, knowing full well that the healers that were still crowding around them like she-bears around their cubs would take it as a sign of pain and would drag him back into that prison they called a healing wing before he could even say "I'm fine". The physicians had accepted that elves healed quickly and left his friends alone most of the time, even though they didn't stop stressing that they really should stay here for a few days longer, but they refused to believe him when he said that rangers healed faster than normal humans as well.  
  
Aragorn turned his attention back to the white horse behind him, shaking his head in dismay. He had known from the very beginning that Rashwe would never let him live the whole thing down, and he had been correct. The animal had missed no opportunity to let him feel that he was in its debt, and Aragorn was beginning to dread the journey that lay ahead of them.  
  
Legolas' laughing voice drew him back from his thoughts.  
"I told you Rashwe liked you."  
  
"Please, my friend," Aragorn shook his head with a small snort, "It does not like me, and it never shall. It saved me to be able to torment me, that is all."  
  
The elf looked at him, giving his horse that was gazing back at him innocently a brief look.  
"Torment you? Come now, Estel, I think you exaggerate a bit…"  
  
"No," the man said with quiet conviction. "Believe me, I am most glad that Rashwe decided to intervene – if he hadn't I wouldn't be here, in fact – but I still say that that animal relishes fear and chaos."  
  
The fair haired prince shook his head and was about to retort something when three small figures broke away from where the Kings of Erebor and Dale and most of their advisors were deeply immersed in conversation the middle of the courtyard. Aragorn leaned against his own horse, still feeling a lot weaker than he wanted to admit even to himself, but a smile spread on his face when he recognised who it was that was quickly coming their way: Ori, Nori and Frór, who had apparently decided to say their goodbyes in a more private matter.  
  
Legolas gave the approaching dwarves a short look, mumbled something along the lines of "I-am-sure-Celylith-just-called-me" and disappeared so quickly that the ranger's still a little muddled mind couldn't really tell where he had gone. A second later the three small beings stopped in front of him, each of them wearing equal expressions of concern and reproach.  
  
"So," Ori finally said.  
  
Aragorn resisted the urge to grin broadly.  
"So what, Ori?"  
  
"So how do you feel?" Nori asked, eyeing the young man he had met the first time more than ten years ago. "Are they treating you alright here?"  
  
"Do you get enough meat?" Frór chirped in. The blonde dwarf was firmly convinced that all anyone needed to heal quickly was a good portion of red meat and lots of ale. More than once he had told the young man that it was a miracle that he had grown as tall as he had with the food he was eating.  
  
Aragorn shook his head, the grin plain to see now.  
"Yes, Frór, I do. More than enough."  
  
The dwarven warrior grumbled, folding his arms across his chest.  
"These elves know nothing about what a young lad like you needs to recuperate! You should have stayed in our mountain, boy, then those wounds of yours would've healed already."  
  
Ori seemed to pick up the subject, for he took a step closer to the ranger, looking him up and down.  
"How is that shoulder and your burns doing, Estel? Dofur ordered me to report him should anything be amiss."  
  
The man would almost have thrown his hands up into the air and was inwardly cursing Legolas for leaving him alone with three over-protective dwarves.  
"I am fine, thank you. I am no longer the child you met twelve years ago, I can look after myself."  
  
The sound of gruff dwarven laughter was rather embarrassing, and Aragorn waited not so patiently until the small beings had calmed down again. Frór wiped tears out of his eyes, feeling through his chest armour for his heart.  
"Oh, yes, lad, you can. We've seen that."  
  
Aragorn scowled at the dwarf, deciding that he sounded far too much like his father and brothers, a rather disconcerting idea now that he thought about it. Desperately trying to lead the conversation away from his state of health, he turned back to Ori and Nori who were just trying to hide the broad grins on their faces.  
"What about the treasure? Has there been any progress?"  
  
The three dwarves' faces turned serious immediately, filling the young ranger with a certain sense of achievement. One only had to know how to deal with them…  
  
"Not much," Ori shook his head. "When that Lake-man set the entrance to the tunnel on fire, the struts that supported the ceiling were burnt and the whole cave collapsed. It will take a long time to dig through all that rubble, and even if we manage to do that, there's still the question of whether there's anything left intact to find."  
  
"Have you found out how it got there?" Aragorn asked, interest in his grey eyes.  
  
Nori nodded, a grim smile on his lips as he remembered an event long past.  
"Yes. We think it was part of Smaug's hoard. The worm must have hidden some of it in his fear that someone would come to reclaim what he had stolen."  
  
"Smaug!" the young man exclaimed. "You are sure?"  
  
"As sure as we can be," the elderly dwarf nodded. "We were hoping to find a certain stone there, a beautiful gem that was lost along with the Arkenstone when the dragon descended on the mountain, but alas, now it will remain lost, I fear."  
  
Aragorn nodded, barely noting the sadness in the other's voice. So that explained it, he thought to himself. That had been the reason why Adruran and even the 'Fox's' men had been so anxious and afraid when they had discovered that Legolas and Celylith were elves: They had feared that they were acting in the name of King Thranduil and that the woodland king would demand a share of the treasure as he had done twelve years ago.  
  
"Well," he quickly said when he realised that the dwarves were still waiting for an answer, "I really do hope that you manage to find it. It would be a small compensation for what you've lost."  
  
The small beings' faces darkened somewhat. While the losses they had suffered during the battle had been light since they had only lost two warriors, even though several had been severely wounded, they were still having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that the king's nephews were indeed dead.  
  
The Lake-men Legolas had freed hadn't got very far before the dwarves had caught up with them, and once they had been returned to the camp the small warriors had got quite close to killing all of them in their rage, even though they knew that the humans were not directly responsible for the young ones' deaths.  
  
"It will take some time," Ori shrugged, "But Durin's folk are patient. If there's something to discover, we will find it. Besides," the dwarf added, renewed light shining in his eyes, "we discovered a whole new network of tunnels that are simply fascinating. In all my years I've never seen masonry this elaborate and precise…"  
  
Aragorn listened patiently for the first few minutes, honestly trying to find some interest for tunnels, caves and things like that, yet he found it hard to accomplish. His experience with the bear had done little to make him forget about his dislike for small, enclosed spaces, and tonight he had even got rather close to a nightmare again.  
  
When the dwarves showed no sign of tiring and were just about to describe the tunnels' floors to him, he decided that this was enough to serve courtesy and interrupted them, looking over their shoulders to look at his broadly grinning elven friends who seemed to enjoy his predicament immensely.  
  
"I am sorry," he told the dwarves, inclining his head to hide the small smile that was visible on his face, "I am afraid that Prince Legolas and Lord Celylith are asking for my presence." He looked at all three of them in turn, serious. "I thank you for all your help, again. Without you my companions and I would have died and these men escaped. We are deeply in your debt."  
  
Nori waved his hand dismissively.  
"That is alright, Estel. I and the rest of Thorin's company who are still alive are forever in the debt of Lord Elrond, who most graciously welcomed us to his home. Without him we would never have deciphered the runes on Thorin's map and most probably would have died these twelve years ago. The least we could do was to make sure that his foster son doesn't get himself killed with two stiff-necked elves."  
  
Aragorn smiled warmly at the smaller being.  
"Still, I thank you. May Aulë keep you and yours in peace and prosperity."  
  
Frór nodded his head, carefully reaching out and giving the man what he thought was a light pat on the arm, nearly knocking him into his horse in the process.  
"The same to you, lad. If you ever are near the mountain again, do not hesitate to visit us; there will always be a place for you at one of our tables. Even," the blonde dwarf added, swallowing hard as he made a huge admission, "Even if you have them elves with you."  
  
The smile on the young ranger's face broadened.  
"I will certainly remember that, Master Frór. Please give my regards to your brother."  
  
Frór nodded and assured him he would definitely do that, and a few minutes and many more goodbyes and good wishes later, Aragorn managed to escape to his elven friends, secretly wondering what it was about rocks that was so fascinating to the dwarven race. He looked up at Legolas, glaring darkly at him.  
"Don't."  
  
The fair haired elf raised an eyebrow, looking so innocent that it was almost unnatural.   
"Don't what, _dúnadan_? I didn't want to do anything."   
  
"Maybe," Aragorn grumbled. "But you wanted to say something, elf, do not deny it."  
  
Celylith grinned at his two friends, furtively eyeing both of them to ascertain whether they were really strong enough to travel. Both of them had insisted that they were fine, which would be 'fine'-fine in this case; besides, Aragorn and Legolas would still insist that they were 'fine' when they were being crushed by a troll that had mistaken them for a cushion.  
  
"Most assuredly," he nodded, ignoring his prince's scathing glare. "That was the impression I had as well, Estel."  
  
Legolas narrowed his eyes and was about to say something when a soft, tentative voice interrupted them.  
"Pardon me, Strider, my lords?"  
  
The three of them turned to look at a blonde man that stood in front of them, cuts and bruises on his face that were already healing. On one of his hands was a large, rather ugly-looking burn while the other one was bandaged.  
  
Aragorn inclined his head, giving the man a small smile.  
"Master Gwemyr. You are ready to leave?"  
  
Owaeran's brother had only suffered a few minor cuts and burns he had sustained while he had been trying to light the fire as quickly as possible when he had returned to the humans' camp, and while his companions had already left for Esgaroth, he had insisted to stay behind. He didn't want to leave before he had made sure that the ranger and the elves who had saved him and his friends would be alright, and so they had agree to travel back to Lake-town together. The two men had spent quite a lot time talking in the past days, even if Gwemyr was still rather uncomfortable around the two elves. Aragorn had found that Owaeran had been right: Essentially, Gwemyr was not a bad man. He was lazy, reckless and somewhat naïve, but he had never intended to hurt anyone. This led to the possible conclusion that he was slightly stupid as well if he had really believed that the two dwarves had had an accident for example, but the ranger wasn't sure about that yet.  
  
The other man nodded and gave the two elves a slightly nervous glance, but neither Legolas nor Celylith felt any inclination to leave; they still hadn't forgotten the role the man had played in all this. When it became apparent that neither one would move in the near future, Gwemyr gave a small sigh and turned back to the ranger, pulling a small packet out of his pocket and fiddling nervously with cord that tied it up.  
  
"I … I have something for you, Mr. Strider," he began slowly, keeping his eyes to the ground. What the other man had told him when he had saved him from Bleon's abuse still weighted heavily on his mind, and he had begun to regret a great many things he had done and not done in the past. "Well, when I came back to that cave – and I'm still sorry that it took me so long – I needed some time to kindle the fire, and … well, I had some time to have a look around."  
  
Legolas and Celylith exchanged a slightly exasperated glance. Men and gold.  
  
"I … I didn't have much time," Gwemyr quickly continued, speaking faster now, "So I only took two things before getting out of there as quickly as possible. One is a little necklace for Seveawen, my niece, to make up for not saying goodbye to her, and," the man swallowed quickly, "and this." He all but shoved the small package into Aragorn's hands. "Here, I don't have use for it and I thought you deserved it after what you've gone through to help me and my companions – all of you," he amended with a quick look at the two elves. "So, please, keep it, I don't think that the dwarves will miss it. It just caught my eye and … I'll wait for all of you over there at the main gate," he hastily finished and turned around, grasping his horse's reins and disappearing into the direction of the gate so quickly that all the young ranger could do was stare after him open-mouthed and blinking in confusion.  
  
"That was … surprising," he finally managed, still staring after the other man.  
  
"I agree," Legolas nodded, slightly baffled himself. He hadn't expected Owaeran's brother to do anything like this.  
  
"Well, yes," Celylith nodded his head, eyes fixed on the parcel Aragorn held. "So, aren't you going to open it?"  
  
"Now?" Aragorn countered, a small smile lurking in his eyes, "I think we should bid King Bard farewell first, it appears that he and Dáin have finished their discussion…"  
  
The silver haired elf rolled his eyes and scowled at the man. Somehow it had been easier to deal with him when he had been feverish and on the brink of unconsciousness.  
"Yes, ranger, now. I want to see what it is!"  
  
Both he and Legolas drew closer to the man as he slowly began to untie the ribbon that kept the parcel closed, causing Aragorn to grin widely.  
"Get back a little," he admonished them when Celylith stepped even closer to peer over his shoulder, "You're like elflings that can't wait to open their presents on Yentarë, honestly…"  
  
His voice trailed off and he gasped when he looked at what had been in the parcel Gwemyr had given him. Even Legolas who had seen many a treasure in his days had to consciously stop his jaw from dropping when he looked at the object Aragorn held in his hands as gingerly as if it might turn into a bat and flap away.  
  
On top of the ranger's palm sat the most beautiful gem any of them had ever seen, and Aragorn knew instinctively that this was the stone Nori had mentioned. Many words came to his mind to describe its beauty, and yet none seemed to be enough to depict the fire and radiance that seemed to light the jewel from within. It was a rather large stone of a beautiful pale colour, worked until its many facets reflected the light that fell on it, making it resemble stars in the night sky, or the moon's light on a still pool, or polished silver that yet gleamed with an inner, mysterious fire. Aragorn swallowed hard, his throat parched all of the sudden. This stone had to be worth more than the entire valley of Dale and its inhabitants put together.  
  
"O dear Elbereth…" he mumbled, not being able to form a more coherent thought.  
  
"My thoughts exactly, _mellonamin_," Legolas agreed when he had found his voice. He gave the dwarves that stood a few dozen yards away a quick look and turned back to his human friend. "Aragorn, this stone is…"  
  
"Magnificent," Aragorn nodded. "Nori told me about it; in its beauty it is only second to the Arkenstone that lies now buried with Thorin Oakenshield beneath Erebor."  
  
Legolas blinked slowly, his eyes once again returning to the stone. He had never seen the dwarves' most prized possession and had always believed that the tales had been exaggerating its beauty, but if the Arkenstone was even more beautiful than this, then he was beginning to understand why Thorin and his companions had been ready to die and kill for it. And why his father hadn't been entirely uninterested in it either…  
  
"What are you going to do with it?" Celylith asked, always the practical one.  
  
"I?" Aragorn looked at his elven friends with wide grey eyes, quickly covering the jewel. He was rather sure that it would come to a war after all if either King Dáin or King Bard saw this jewel. "What do you mean, I?"  
  
"Well," Legolas began slowly, looking hard at his friend, "Gwemyr gave it to you. It is yours, unless you want to walk up to the kings and see how quickly they manage to go to war for this."  
  
The young ranger didn't look happy at all about these developments, in fact, he looked downright terrified.   
"Mine? No! It's not mine, and I cannot keep it either! Here," he wheeled around to the elven prince, thrusting the wrapped gem into his hands before he could react, "You take it!"  
  
"I?" Legolas spluttered, looking about him wildly, but Celylith had already moved safely out of reach. "What should I do with it?"  
  
Aragorn looked at him, obviously thinking hard, before his face lit up happily.  
"I know! You give it to your father! He might not kill us if he's busy admiring it!"  
  
The fair haired elf narrowed his eyes, wanting to retort something, but closed his mouth again when he realised that his friend's reasoning was not so far from the truth after all. His father might be distracted indeed by this stone, anyone would be, and it would also help him accept that his son, one of his captains and the son of the ruler of an allied elven realm who also happened to be his guest and therefore his responsibility had had to accept the help of the dwarves, and would in fact have been killed had it not been for the _naugrim_.  
  
"Hmm," he only made, eyeing the small package with renewed interest. "You might be right…"  
  
"Of course I am," Aragorn commented, apparently hugely relieved that he had got rid of his unwanted burden. "I am sure he will appreciate it. Think of it as payment for all the bandages and medicines we need all the time."  
  
"And to hire a replacement for Hithrawyn," Celylith chimed in. "I don't think he will make it past our arrival with his sanity intact."  
  
"Indeed not," Legolas mumbled, putting the stone safely into the inside pocket of his leather vest. This was actually an invitation for them to get robbed, he mused, beginning to feel exceedingly nervous. That'd be just their kind of luck, to be robbed the one time they actually had something of value with them except for their weapons.  
  
The elf looked up, noting the way the King of Dale and the King of Erebor were looking into their direction, and he put on a friendly smile that was even heart-felt for the main part. He was very glad to leave this part of Rhovanion behind, and he wouldn't shed a tear if he didn't return for a few centuries. Too many things had happened or nearly happened to his friends and him here, things that he would and could never forget.  
  
"Come then," he told his friends, still smiling friendly at the two kings, "Let's say our goodbyes. I am sure especially King Dáin's heart will bleed to see us go."  
  
"Definitely," Celylith mumbled under his breath, moving into the direction of the large group of men and dwarves. "As will Dofur's, I am sure about it…"  
  
Legolas let his elven friend precede them and slowly followed him with Aragorn, eyeing the man closely. He was still of the opinion that the ranger was not well enough to travel, but he had insisted that he was fine, and had somehow managed to annoy both him and Celylith so much that they had agreed on leaving today. None of them was in the mood for a long-winded argument, besides, Aragorn would probably use their own arguments against them if they gave them enough time. That human was nearly as bad as Elrohir.  
  
"You know," he began softly, giving the man a long look, "Quite a few people would call giving away such a treasure folly."  
  
"Quite a few people would," Aragorn agreed, seriously. "Yet I do not wish for treasure or even that particular gem. We have seen what desires these kinds of riches awake in Men, haven't we?" He stopped shortly, giving his elven friend a hesitant smile. "You were right, I do not desire such things. There might be many things to corrupt me with, but money is not one of them."  
  
Legolas smiled back at the young ranger, once again deciding that, one day and Ilúvatar willing, Aragorn would make a great king.   
"So I was, my friend, and I hold to my words. You are a good man. A little reckless perhaps, yes, but a good man."  
  
The ranger shook his head slightly and gave a short laugh, but his eyes were serious and dark when they fastened on the elf's face.  
"Thank you, _mellonamin_. And while I may be a reckless man, you are the best friend one could wish for." He stopped shortly, eyes sparkling with mirth. "A little stubborn perhaps, but a very, very good friend."  
  
Legolas shook his head as well and took up his walk again, deciding that they had let King Bard and Celylith wait long enough already. He waited a second to give Aragorn the chance to catch up with him, and together they crossed the short distance between them and their hosts.  
  
"Well, at least I don't get myself very nearly killed on a daily basis," the elven prince mumbled to his human companion a second before they reached the kings and their respective entourages.  
  
Aragorn fought in vain to keep the unbelieving grin off his face, causing him to nearly suffocate with suppressed laughter.  
  
"Whatever you say, Leafie, whatever you say."  
  
  
  
  
Anardir was shifting in the tree he had chosen as a vantage point, in vain trying to find a comfortable position. For the entire day he had had the feeling of impending doom and destruction, and he had fully expected to meet a horde of orcs, a pack of wargs, one or more of the Nine, a spider colony or something similarly sinister.  
  
Nothing had happened though, and his watch had been quiet, uneventful and actually rather dull – something that filled him with trepidation and a choking sense of dread. This was simply too good to be true, and if he had learned anything during the millennia he had already walked this world, it was that such things never lasted.  
  
Besides, he had already exhausted his luck, since he had returned from Esgaroth two weeks ago, bearing Prince Legolas' letter and firmly convinced that he wouldn't live to see another new moon. But he was still alive, to his own substantial surprise. His liege's reaction had been … very interesting to say the least, just as he had thought. King Thranduil had not been happy about the fact that his son had spontaneously decided to visit Dale and would be gone for an indefinite amount of time.   
It had been so bad that Anardir had asked, no, in fact _pleaded _his captain for an assignment as far away from the palace as possible, now that the Forest River was unnavigable and he wouldn't be able to travel to Lake-town until the beginning of the warm seasons. It wasn't that he was afraid of his lord, but every time the king saw him, Anardir, he was obviously reminded of his absent son, since a vein on his temple started throbbing nervously and his face darkened until everyone in his presence sought excuses to escape his company. And Thranduil wasn't exactly a cheerful elf to begin with, so it was really quite bad.  
  
Anardir leaned back against the bark of the tree, humming a small song both to please the tree that had so graciously allowed him to climb it and to calm his own slightly frayed nerves. If the population of Mirkwood had thought that their lord and king had been in a bad mood before, they had been shown how very wrong they were when, eight days ago, a carrier pigeon from Erebor had arrived. That alone would probably have been enough to put the king in a bad mood on a good day – and apparently Thranduil hadn't had a good day in a long, long time – but this time had been exceptional.  
  
After the king had calmed down a little and sent a reply, wild rumours began to spread, one more unlikely than the last. Anardir's favourite was the one in which Prince Legolas, Lord Celylith and young Estel had been taken captive by some unknown men for unknown purposes, had – of course – nearly been killed and _then _had had to be saved by the dwarf king and his men. The golden haired elf snorted. That was in fact a most ridiculous story, and he honestly couldn't see how anyone could believe such nonsense. But tales of a lost treasure and Prince Legolas' imminent return persisted to be told when the king was not around, and so Anardir suspected that a bit of truth was to be found in some of the rumours.  
  
While the elf was still pondering this, the sound of hoofbeat could be heard, and he straightened himself quickly and gave a low whistle to alert the rest of his patrol. He slowly reached for his quiver and fitted an arrow to his bow, jumping down onto the lower branches of the tree to have a better view. Three or four horses were coming his way, and it might be what he had been dreading all the time…  
  
When the horses finally came into view, Anardir found himself wishing for an orc horde, a dragon, a balrog or any other demon Morgoth Bauglir had ever created. 'Anything,' he thought desperately, 'Anything is better than … Prince Legolas.'  
  
It was a rather unusual thought for him, for he was loyal to his prince and would have died for him without a second's hesitation, but to be the one who brought him home half-dead was not an enviable task. Well, half-dead might have been a slight exaggeration, but his prince didn't look well, that much was certain. Faint traces of healed bruises and cuts that only an elf's eye could see were visible on his face, and his left arm was tightly bandaged up to his shoulder. He also held himself more stiffly than usual, Anardir decided with a frown of concern while he was swiftly climbing down the tree, as was Celylith, even though the silver haired elf bore no visible marks that might have shown that he was injured. That Strider was not well was obvious, since there were cuts and bruises on his face, was definitely too pale for a mortal and seemed exhausted and thin.  
  
Valar, why him? Again?  
  
Anardir's feet touched the ground and he slowly walked up to the three horses that had stopped some distance away from him, half-hoping that his liege's son and his companions would disappear when he didn't acknowledge them. When no such thing happened, he sighed inwardly and gave a bow when he had reached the animals.  
  
"Greetings, my lord," he greeted Legolas, the beautiful Elvish words being in stark contrast to his dark mood. "It gladdens my heart to see you return to us so soon."  
  
Legolas smiled at the elven warrior, deciding to ignore the tired undertone in his voice.  
"Greetings, Anardir. It is good to see you, my friend." He looked at the golden haired elf, obviously trying to find enough courage for his next question. "My father is awaiting our arrival?"  
  
Anardir smiled darkly, deciding that this was the perfect time to pay the other back for making him deliver that accursed letter of his.  
"Oh yes, my lord. He is expecting you with anticipation." He paused for a second, feeling wicked glee at seeing the other elf cringe. "With much, much anticipation."  
  
"Oh," the prince made faintly, swallowing hard. "I thought as much." He gave the other members of the patrol that had materialised out of the woods a nod, and announced after a few moments, "We should not let him wait then, should we?"  
  
A few minutes later, the group was already travelling on, and still the elven prince couldn't shake off the nagging feeling of dread that had settled over his senses. The gleam in Anardir's eyes had been anything but reassuring, and the fact that the golden haired elf had still been smiling darkly at them when they had ridden on just couldn't be a good sign.  
  
Even though he had had five days to get used to the idea of returning to his father, ever since they had left Dale to be precise, it was still hard to accept that they were, in fact, home. The journey had been uneventful for once, and they had reached Esgaroth two days after they had set out from the valley of Dale.   
  
The reunion between Owaeran and his family and Gwemyr had been heart-warming, and had been worth some of the trouble they had gone through. They had stayed with the trader and his family for the night, and had left the day before, leaving behind a happy family that was more than a little surprised to see any of them alive. Misien, Owaeran's wife, had tried to convince them to stay a bit longer since they were all looking far too thin and weak, especially the poor young boy (this time she had meant Aragorn), but Strider, Celylith and he had been far too eager to get back to the palace as soon as possible.  
  
Legolas had to suppress a small smile when he thought of the short visit, especially of Seobryn and Owaeran's young daughter Seveawen. The two of them seemed to be on rather … friendly terms, and he could have sworn he had seen the two of them sneak off into the stables and return ten minutes later, looking slightly out of breath and decidedly dishevelled.  
  
On one thing he agreed with Misien though: Aragorn was looking exhausted and too thin, and that was what he had been trying to tell that insufferably stubborn human the entire journey. He was very glad they were almost home, because he was rather sure that he would have to pick the ranger off the ground before soon otherwise. Travelling for five days had taken its toll on the young man who hadn't been anywhere near well when they had left Dale, and so Legolas was secretly wishing for Hithrawyn and the other healers who could simply drug Aragorn if he refused to co-operate as he had done so often these past five days. Besides, there was still his own arm they they could have a look at...   
  
The journey back to the palace seemed to take no time at all, and all too soon they reached the broad alleyway that led up to the large, magically sealed stone gates that guarded the home of the wood-elves. There was no other elf in sight, nor had they met anyone since being greeted by Anardir and his patrol, and Legolas was beginning to suspect that they were either hiding or trying to find places from where they could watch how his father killed all of them.   
  
As if on cue the three of them stopped their horses, looking with wide, frightened eyes at the open gates that could be seen some hundred yards in the distance.  
"Well," the elven prince said, looking at his companions wryly, "Who wants to go first?"  
  
Celylith and Aragorn traded a quizzical look and turned to look at the fair haired prince, giving him an identical stare that very clearly said that there was no way one of them was crossing the gates before Legolas. Legolas sighed, hanging his head.  
  
"Aren't you supposed to be my friends and protect me?"  
  
"Oh no," Aragorn said quickly and shook his head, deciding that he was actually looking forward to seeing Hithrawyn again. He was feeling quite miserable, and he had indeed overstrained himself, but that wasn't something he would admit to his elven friends.  
  
Celylith shook his head as well, eyes round in his fair face.  
"Not if the matter involves your father, my friend. I will stay in the background and hope to become invisible."  
  
Legolas snorted softly and urged Rashwe forwards, Aragorn and Celylith trailing after him.  
"You may succeed with my father, my friend, but I fear that no force on Arda could make _your _father overlook you."  
  
Celylith simply gulped, eyes darting nervously to the sides. The way he saw it, his father would respectfully wait until the king had killed Legolas and would then take him by the ear like a disobedient elfling and drag him to their home to kill him in a more private manner. The silver haired elf sighed as they neared the gates, ignoring the greetings the guards called out, all sounding much too smug in his opinion. He was truly envying Aragorn at the moment, who would have some more time to come up with a reasonable explanation for all this until he had to face his father.  
  
Before he could even think of proper words to greet his liege and his father – dear Elbereth, especially his father – they had passed the gates and were in the huge courtyard, and only a second later they stopped in front of the large marble steps that led up to the main building.  
  
The three of them dismounted, and Celylith moved over to the young ranger to steady him when he stumbled, weariness and exhaustion finally catching up with the mortal. A few seconds later he finally found the courage to look up, and swallowed nervously when he saw the group of elves that had assembled on the bottom steps of the stairs.  
  
In front stood the king of course, calm and regal as always in his dark green robes, but there was a dangerous sparkle in his blue eyes that usually warned all who knew him to seek cover, and to seek it now. Behind him he could see Hithrawyn, whose face was twitching slightly and had assumed a purple colour Celylith had never before seen on another being's face, some other healers, some high ranking advisors and friends of the king and … Celythramir, his father.  
  
Celylith suppressed the urge to turn and run away, telling himself that this behaviour would be more than a little undignified, and in addition to that he wouldn't get far anyway. He once again returned his gaze to his father, who looked much like him, for his hair had the same silver colour as his, even though his eyes were not dark blue, but green. Lord Celythramir was one of the king's advisors who was in charge of Mirkwood's defences, a most responsible position indeed, and he also was one of the best warriors at the king's court, even though he seldom strayed from the palace of late. But, right now, everybody could believe that he could kill a dozen orcs just to warm up a little, considering the expression on his face that bordered on positively dangerous.  
  
The silver haired elf hung his head. He was doomed.  
  
Next to him, his companions had just come to the same conclusion and Legolas took a step forward and bowed before his father and king, having decided that if he had to die, he would die in proper style.  
_"Mae govannen, adar."_  
  
A flash of emotion could be seen on the golden haired king's face, too quickly to be identified._  
"Mae govannen, ion nín."_ He looked at the three of them, taking in their numerous half-healed injuries and added in a slightly softer voice, _"Anna i-'ell nin beriannen telich dan na var vín."_  
  
"Thank you, _ada_," Legolas said and nodded his head, noting that his back still wasn't happy about things such as bowing and straightening up. "We are sorry we're a little late."  
  
Thranduil arched a golden eyebrow, wondering once again from where his son had got his opinions about the meaning of the terms "a little", "not much" and "fine". Certainly not from his side of the family.  
"A little? Our agreement was two weeks!"  
  
Legolas winced, and he could almost see how his friends behind him tried their best to become invisible.  
"Ah, we go involved in something unanticipated and things simply … developed from then on…"  
  
"So I've heard," Thranduil agreed silently, giving his son a long look. "I've been informed about that and many other interesting things by the King of Erebor." He paused, and then clarified, "The dwarf king of Erebor."  
  
The elven prince resisted the urge to close his eyes. Great Manwë, all he wanted was a quick death…  
"Lord Dáin was indeed most helpful." He stopped, terrified. Had he really just said that? _Why _had he said that? He almost turned to glare at his human friend. Aragorn must be rubbing off on him…  
  
"I see." Thranduil's voice was barely above a whisper, and the dangerous sparkle in his eyes grew even brighter. "We will discuss this, my son. After all of you have spent as much time in the healing wing as Master Hithrawyn sees fit."  
  
Under any other circumstances Legolas would have protested, but right now he was too tired and feeling too relieved that his father hadn't ripped off his head yet to argue about it.  
"Yes, my lord."  
  
Hithrawyn and the other healers rushed forwards, attracted to the swaying, bruised and pale figure of Aragorn like bees to honey, and Thranduil stepped closer to his son, his eyes travelling over the bandages on Legolas' arm to finally come to rest on his face.  
  
"Are you alright, my son?" he asked, in a softer tone of voice. When the younger elf nodded soundlessly, he reached out and brushed a strand of fair hair out of his son's face, allowing his hand to linger close to his face for a moment. "Why do you insist on scaring me thus?" he added, the rare public display of affection making Legolas feel even more miserable and guilty than he already did.  
  
The elven prince looked at his father only to lower his eyes again, abashed.  
"I am sorry, _ada_, I didn't mean to. I would never do it on purpose, but it was unavoidable." He raised his head, quiet conviction on his face. "I couldn't just return home and let these men get away with what they'd done to Aragorn. I couldn't."  
  
The golden haired king smiled at his child. The young one was so stubborn, and still so protective – just like his mother. Every time Thranduil looked at his son he saw his wife reflected in these silver-blue eyes of his or in his easy smile, and he knew that that was the reason why he was so afraid for him. He wasn't only afraid to lose his only child, he was also afraid of losing the last bit of his beloved queen he had still left.  
  
"I know," he shook his head slightly, taking Legolas' arm and following Hithrawyn and the other healers that had already descended on the young ranger and Celylith and were marching them off to the healing chambers. The young man looked quite happy to let them have their way while Celylith was smiling nervously at his father, who was walking next to him, and was trying to look innocent and as healthy as possible.  
  
"I know," he repeated. "In fact, I would probably have been disappointed if you had."  
  
"You would have?" Legolas asked, enjoying being home so much that he could even forget about the lecture that was waiting for him.  
  
The Elvenking smiled fondly.  
"Aye, my son, I would have. I would have been very surprised had you returned in one piece as well. You never manage to."  
  
Legolas looked at his father in indignation, noting with some dread that they had almost reached the healing wing.  
"That is not true! I managed to come back unscathed when we delivered that message to the Lady Galadriel when the Easterlings came close to invading Wilderland again!"  
  
"Oh yes, I remember. That was nearly 240 years ago."  
  
"Oh," Legolas said faintly and smiled. "That long?"  
  
Thranduil shook his head as he delivered his troublesome child into the waiting hands of a healer.  
"Yes, Legolas. That long."  
  
He was still shaking his head when he turned around and slowly began to make his way over to his study to compose a message to Lord Elrond to let him know that his human son had returned to Mirkwood alive, inwardly thanking the Valar that all three of them were safe. No, he decided after a moment, "alive" didn't sound so good, he would write "in one piece", even though it wasn't exactly the truth.  
  
There was no reason to put the other elf lord through the same he had been through ever since he had received that letter from Dale these few days ago, after all.  
  
  
  
  
Many, many hours later Legolas soundlessly sneaked into his human friend's room, inwardly thanking the Valar that it was a junior healer and not Hithrawyn himself who was supervising the healing wing at this time of night.   
  
The elven prince wasn't sure where exactly the master healer was, even though he strongly suspected that the other elf was right now packing for his trip to the Grey Havens. Hithrawyn had not been happy about their respective states of health, and had voiced his feelings openly and, in his opinion, more often than necessary. Equally unnecessary and to him incomprehensible was the healer's decision to keep all of them in the healing wing for the night; Celylith and him until tomorrow and Aragorn for several more days. While their wounds could not be helped by keeping them in the halls of healing – Legolas was very happy that the other elf had seen that as well – Aragorn was not in the condition to go anywhere, something which everyone agreed on except the man in question of course.  
  
Legolas grinned slightly when he remembered the indignation on his human friend's face when Hithrawyn had informed him, admittedly with a smug expression on his face, that he would remain here for at least three or four more days until his body had sufficiently recovered from his injuries and the strain of their recent journey. The prince still felt rather guilty about the man's poor health, but Aragorn hadn't wanted to see that travelling was too strenuous for him, so there had been nothing he or Celylith could have done save drugging him or chaining him to the wall of his room to hold him back.  
  
The fair haired elf quickly scanned the room Hithrawyn had ordered Aragorn to stay in under pain of death, but his keen eyes could find no trace of the man. He frowned slightly as he stepped further into the room. Surely Aragorn was not stupid enough to try to escape yet? Hithrawyn was not in a very good mood right now, and the ranger just might find himself in the dungeons for a few days if he was caught during such an attempt.  
  
Legolas stopped next to the bed and looked at the rumpled sheets, the only indication that the young ranger had spent any time in this room at all. Where could that stubborn human be? Well, he was not with Celylith, that much was sure since Legolas had just been in his room to make sure that he was resting comfortably – and to ascertain that he was still there and had not disappeared. He knew it was ridiculous, but a small part of him was still afraid that his silver haired friend would vanish and leave him behind once more.  
  
But Celylith had done nothing of that sort, and when the elven prince had left him a few minutes ago, he had been sleeping peacefully, and there had been no-one else in his room. Legolas' eyes wandered through the dark room, and when he saw the curtains that moved slightly in the night's breeze, he shook his head, suddenly knowing where Aragorn was. Sighing softly, he grabbed the top blanket and made his way over to the softly swaying cloth and, pushing it aside, stepped out onto the balcony.  
  
As he had suspected, Aragorn was there, sitting on the railing with his legs dangling over the edge of the balustrade, wearing only a shirt, a robe and his numerous bandages, of course. Legolas shook his head. How had this young one managed to survive for nearly two dozen years? Suddenly he understood Lord Elrond's and the twins' protective behaviour a lot better; sometimes it seemed to him that Aragorn wanted to contract all illnesses he possibly could.  
  
"Are you planning to stand there all night?"  
  
The soft, smiling voice of the man brought Legolas out of his thoughts, and the elf stepped closer, a reproachful expression on his face.  
  
"You are going to catch your death for sure, Aragorn! What are you thinking?" He quickly climbed onto the railing, wincing slightly when his freshly bandaged back protested, and draped the blanket he had brought over the human's shoulders. "Just imagine what Hithrawyn will say when he finds you here!"  
  
"Exactly!" Aragorn grinned, raising a dark eyebrow.  
  
"Estel!" Legolas exclaimed in mock horror. "Are you planning to drive that poor elf insane?"  
  
"No," the man shook his head, "It's just an interesting side effect." He turned serious again, looking at his friend earnestly. "What are you doing here? How are you? What about Celylith, and what did your father say?"  
  
Legolas smiled, beginning to count on his fingers.  
  
"What did my father say? Well, a lot, most of which I shall try to forget as soon as possible. But you were right, he suddenly grew very quiet when I presented him with that stone, but I think that is only a short delay." He fell silent for a second. "It is truly beautiful, but I think what pleases him most is the fact that it looks so much like the Arkenstone that is now lost to the dwarves as well." He shook his head, tearing his thoughts away from the jewel that was now safely in his father's treasury. "What about Celylith? As far as I know he is asleep, after having convinced his father that the both of us are to blame for everything and he is completely innocent, traitor that he is. How am I? I am well, and Hithrawyn bade me tell you that you set my arm most professionally. He says that it will most likely heal, even though that last blow was anything but helpful. And what am I doing here? Well, I could easily ask the same of you, could I not?"  
  
"I see," Aragorn mumbled, letting his gaze wander over the moonlit palace gardens. Slender, leafless branches stretched towards the heavens like the fingers of giants, and their grace and beauty astonished the man anew every time he saw them. "I am glad to hear that I did no additional damage when I set your arm. I am very relieved to hear it."  
  
Legolas shook his head slightly. He was still avoiding his questions, that stubborn human!  
"That is well, but you did not answer my question." He studied the emotionless face of the man next to him. "Are you afraid of going to sleep?"  
  
The young man looked at him, clearly surprised.  
"Oh, you mean am I having nightmares again? No," he shook his head, "Nothing worse than usual." Legolas raised an eyebrow, and he hurried to continue. "I have bad dreams once in a while, yes, but there is nothing to be done about that. They are just normal nightmares, nothing like the ones I had before." He smiled at the elf. "Those are gone, thank Ilúvatar."  
  
"Then what is it?" Legolas asked, touching the ranger's shoulder lightly. "You need to rest; you have clearly overstrained yourself, reckless human, just as I told you."  
  
"Nothing," Aragorn shook his head, "Truly, I was just thinking."  
  
"And?"  
  
"And I have come to the conclusion that you were right, of course. Not all humans are alike; there are many who are true and honest and kind. Owaeran and his family for example, or Seobryn, or, from what my family tells me, my human parents and many of the ranger that yet remain."   
  
He paused, fiddling with the edges of the blanket Legolas had thrown over his shoulders. "What we've been taught is true, Legolas. The heart of Men is weak, and many of the second born are narrow-minded, treacherous and false." Aragorn raised his head and looked at the fair haired elf with serious grey eyes, reminding the prince very much of Lord Elrond all of the sudden. "But there is hope yet for Men, my friend. There is hope yet."  
  
Legolas smiled at the young human who was sitting next to him, dark blue bruises contrasting starkly against the pallor of his skin, a large blanket draped over his shoulders, and inwardly shook his head at the twists of fate. Ilúvatar's will was a most wondrous thing indeed.  
  
"Yes, Estel," he agreed softly, "There is hope yet. More than you may realise."  
  
The ranger smiled back at him, and as one they turned back to the dark, peaceful gardens beneath their feet, enjoying the quiet serenity of the night.   
  
They sat there for a long time side by side, and when the stars began to dim and fade in the dark sky, making way for the sun that would rise above the horizon soon, Legolas looked at the calm face of his friend and smiled softly when he saw nothing but peace and contentment in Aragorn's eyes.  
  
All would be well.  
  
  
  
  
**  
** ** The End**  
  
  
  
  
  
_edain - humans, men   
mellonamin - my friend_  
_dúnadan - 'Man of the West', ranger  
Mírdain - the jewel smiths of Eregion who were under the lordship of Celebrimbor  
naugrim - 'Stunted People', dwarves_  
_Mae govannen, adar - Well met, father  
Mae govannen, ion nín - Well met, my son  
Anna i-'ell nin beriannen telich dan na var vín - It makes me glad that you have returned to our home safely  
ada - father (daddy)_  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


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** **  
  
Epilogue  
  
**   
  
A few hundred miles to the East, a servant was standing in front of a pair of dark oaken doors. The man was clearly nervous, and he was eyeing the wings of the door with a fearful expression on his face that was very close to terrified.  
  
He needed to go in there. If he didn't go in there his lord would be most displeased that he hadn't received the information he was waiting for right away, and it was _never _a good idea to displease his lord. The only problem was that the news his lord was waiting for wasn't good news, it was in fact news so bad that only the term "appalling" satisfied.  
  
Bad news made his lord unhappy. It was _never _a good idea to be around when his lord was unhappy.  
  
The servant took a deep breath, plucked up all the courage he still had and raised his hand to knock. People had been killed for delivering much better messages, and he fully expected to follow them soon, in a most unpleasant and violent matter in all likelihood.  
  
His knock was answered by a voice that was as cold as the unheated and dark corridors, and the last of the man's hopes were dashes as effectively as a troll's foot squashed a beetle. He gripped the door handle and carefully opened the door, his eyes instantly darting to the tall figure by the window. The servant patiently waited for his liege to turn around, studying the other man's costly, dark clothing, firmly convinced that it would be the last thing he would ever see. When the dark-clad man finally turned to face him, he found himself praying that the message his lord had received a few hours prior had been a good one, if not, his death might prove to be even more painful.  
  
"What?"  
  
The servant swallowed, his throat suddenly dry and feeling as if filled with choking sand.   
"We have news from Dale, my lord."  
  
The other man drew back a little so that his face was hidden in the darkness that lay heavily upon the room, but it was obvious that his interest had been kindled.  
"And?"  
  
The servant hung his head, but decided to get this over with as soon as possible.  
"The rumours were true, sir. They … have failed." He averted his eyes and studied the carpet under his feet, talking faster now. "The reports are still confused and rather vague, but it appears that Adruran and his men were captured before they could get to the treasure. There are only a handful of survivors; Adruran and the other officers were killed and the gold destroyed, it seems."  
  
"You are sure about that?" the soft, menacing voice interrupted the silence that weighed on the room.  
  
"Yes, my lord. It is not yet clear how it happened, but our men are dead."  
  
This statement was only met with silence, something that even increased the servant's fear, something he would have thought highly unlikely until now. After what felt like an eternity, the figure at the window nodded his head, the movement only to be suspected in the darkness, his voice level and calm.  
  
"Very well. Arrange for the survivors to have some 'accidents', of course without attracting any unnecessary attention. They must not be allowed to talk." He gave the cowering figure of the servant a dark look and turned to the dark wooden table that stood in the one corner of the room, lit by two heavy candlesticks and covered with papers. "You're dismissed."  
  
The man gave a deep bow, and, hardly daring to believe his luck, exited the room. This had never before happened, he thought as he all but fled from his lord's quarters, never before had someone been the bearer of such horrible news and lived to tell the tale. His liege took the saying "to kill the messenger" quite literally. But then again, he decided as he disappeared round a corner as quickly as possible, he wasn't complaining. No, not at all.  
  
Back in the dark room, the man slowly sat down on a carved, beautifully decorated chair and leaned back, shortly closing his eyes. So Adruran had failed; he had indeed not expected it. He would have to gather as much information as possible on this and find out what had caused his best operative's demise. Adruran had never before failed him, so this time the obstacles he had faced had to be trying ones indeed.  
  
He opened his eyes again and looked at the paper that lay on his desktop, the edges pinned down by small metal weights to prevent the heavy parchment from coiling up again. Ever since his captain's reports had suddenly stopped nearly ten days ago he had been suspecting something had been wrong, and when the first rumours had reached his ears, rumours that told about treasure, conspiracies and fights in Dale and Erebor, the suspicions had turned into certainty. His men had failed, and he wouldn't get what he so urgently needed: Money.  
  
The man took up a paperknife, turning it over in his hands. Money, such an essential thing, and, in the quantities he needed, extremely hard to amass. On any other day the news that his men had failed and were dead (whereas the first was a lot worse than the last) would have been a disaster, especially now that time was beginning to run out. On any other day he would have fumed and killed at least the servant who had delivered the catastrophic news, but the paper that lay in front of him changed all that.  
  
He once again leaned forward, studying the clear letters, letters that had clearly been drawn by the hand of a scribe. What interested him more than the font was what it said, naturally, and that was interesting indeed. In short, it was an offer. A very surprising, most welcome and rather suspicious offer, an offer that presented him with a chance of fulfilling his plans after all. The person who had signed this letter offered him as much money as he needed, for whatever purposes he may have in mind, and he was asking for nothing in return.  
  
He leaned back in his chair, his face marred with a frown. There he was back at that again, money. He had very early understood what many other rulers realised far, far later, if they realised it at all, that was: Money was everything.   
Many who sought dominion over others thought that money would materialise as an added bonus to the power they craved, but he knew better: Money _was _power. Money gave you the power to buy yourself support, obedience and ... soldiers. Money enabled you to buy yourself an army, an army that would ensure that you acquired even more money, and more power.  
  
And money was what he would need to finally take back what should be his, what would have been his if it hadn't been taken away from his ancestors by an evil fate. Vast sums of money, money he had hoped to acquire in form of the treasure that had been rumoured to be buried somewhere in the foothills of the Lonely Mountain, forgotten ever since the dragon had been slain.  
  
The man ran a hand over tired eyes, looking back at the parchment. He was no fool; he realised very well that whoever it was that was making this offer had other aims and objectives to which he very likely didn't want to attract any unwanted attention. This mysterious person was probably hoping that he would disctract this part of Middle-Earth long enough so that he could press ahead with his own plans, and to be honest, he didn't care in the slightest. Had there been any being in a radius of a few hundred leagues that was powerful enough to make this offer, he would know about it, and the rest of the world did not interest him in the slightest.   
He didn't want to rule all of Middle-earth, he didn't even want to rule all of the North; all he wanted was what he was entitled to, and for that he needed gold, and a lot of it. Gold this person was willing to provide.  
  
The dark-clad man watched how the candles burnt lower and lower and the light in the room grew even dimmer. The messenger who had delivered the letter was still here, all he needed to do was draft an answer and send him back to his Master. It would be so easy … and yet it held so many dangers whose magnitude could not yet be calculated…  
  
As it grew darker his eyes returned to the parchment, once again wandering over the words to come to a stop at the bottom of the document where only a single letter could be seen. That by itself would not have been so extraordinary, since he really didn't expect the author to sign with his entire name, but the fact that it was a single elven rune was slightly unusual. It was the letter whose elven name was Silme, starlight, standing for the letter 'S'.   
  
He mulled over this for some time, but try as he might, he couldn't think of anyone who could have made this offer, and certainly not of anyone whose name began with 'S'. It didn't matter anyway, he decided as the flame of the remaining candle began to flicker, whoever this person was, he was not from anywhere near his realm, and it could hardly be of interest to him what he was planning. He could do whatever he wanted in his part of Middle-earth; all he wanted were these lands, nothing more…  
  
The man remained where he was for a long time, not even noticing when a servant timidly opened the door in the middle of the night and promptly closed it again when she saw her motionless lord, eerily lit by a single, flickering candle.  
  
He was still sitting there when the second candle died down, plunging the room into sudden darkness, and in the moment the tiny light source was extinguished and the blackness of a starless night filled the room, he began to smile.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**  
  
  
*g* Those who can guess who made the offer get a Celylith clone! Yes, I know that he didn't die after all, but since Alisha B stole his DNA while he was unconscious, I can make them after all! Yay! Plus, it's not that hard to guess, now is it? And I DO know that there are lots of questions unanswered! *evil grin* What about Legolas' arm? Who the heck is this evil guy? What will Elrond say once he gets Thranduil's letter? Will poor Hithrawyn journey to the havens? Lots of questions that unfortunately will be answered in the next story - just to make sure you read that one as well!   
  
  
  
Okay, once again I want to thank a few people.  
  
First, all those who have prodded me to write a sequel to "An Eye For An Eye", which I hadn't really contemplated, really. So, without you guys this story would never have been started!  
  
Second, again, my little sister and her boyfriend, for coming up with the most interesting ways of killing/torturing/maiming and generally hurting various people, including, sometimes, our favourite elven prince and ranger. She is at least as bad as I am!  
  
And last but certainly not least, all my lovely reviewers for supporting and encouraging me. I got over a thousand reviews!! *sits stunned* Every time I was stuck or just couldn't think of a way to get them out of _that_ mess, your wonderful ideas and suggestions helped me get out of the corner I had written myself into. Thanks to you the cage in the cellar in which I keep the plot bunnies is starting to burst at the seams, but that's a small price to pay for your wonderful support. Your reviews were funny, helpful and just made my day more times than I can count! Thank you all VERY MUCH!!! *huggles the lot of them*  
  
  
I really hope you enjoyed my weird little story, believe me when I say that I enjoyed it enormously! Legolas and Aragorn wouldn't agree, but what do THEY know? *g*  
  
Okay, so I would appreciate a last review telling me what you think now that the whole thing is finished (*Nili's alter ego gives readers threatening looks*), and I will see all of you in a month or a little bit longer when I start posting "To Walk in Night", story number three. I don't do previews, sorry, but I guess most of you have an idea what it's going to be about, right?  
  
  
  
Nili  
  
  
  
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Additional A/N:  
  
Aratfeniel - **Hm, the Redwall Series? Never heard of those... To be honest, I don't read fantasy - if that IS fantasy at all! *g* - except for everything LOTR related of course. But otherwise I think it's a little bit too ... unreal. I know, I know, that's rather strange coming from someone who writes stories about elves and dwarves and orcs and stuff... *g* Your sister nominated Gollum to be what? Sorry, I think I missed something there...  
**TrinityTheSheDevil** - Yes, I updated! Seriously, why does everbody act so surprised? It's not as if I never update or anything.. *walks off grumbling under her breath* I saw some pictures of what wee little Isabel did, I do hope you're okay? Even a power cut can be rather nasty... *g* Well, I guess you had at least fun in that closet of yours with Aragorn, and no, I will NOT ask what you two were doing in there. Not. *g*  
**Andboriel Swann** - *hangs head* Okay okay, it was not a cliffy, I admit that. No real cliffy anyway. It's great you liked my weird little story, thank you a lot for your reviews!  
**LOTRFaith** - *g* It's okay, it's quite easy to get confused sometimes - I for my part am always having a hard time remembering the names of people's OCs - it's horrible! Even if the story's 20 chapters long I can't remember who's who! It's very embarassing... *g* The family thing was more or less because of my brother, and since he's no longer living at home, it wasn't really solvable, which is what made it so futile! *sighs* Family...  
**Lita of Jupiter** - Wow, only the second review and already so long! Thank you! Okay... This is taking place in the winter of the year 2953 (TA), making Estel 22 3/4. Something like that. *g* LOL, an evil badger bent on universal domination? Okay, that IS an interesting image... *snickers* The Noldorin side of the force? *gives her odd looks* Okaaaayyy, if you say so... I don't know if Estel's already met Galadriel and Celeborn, and to be honest, I cold never really make up my mind about it. I will probably have to decide one of these days, but right now I simly don't know... And you tell me about it! Healers are indeed horrible creatures! 4/5 of my family are doctors, so I really know what it's like...  
**Gwyn** - Oh, we do indeed know that. That they're not THAT lucky, I mean, where would be the fun if they were? *huggles Legolas* You're right, he is a little hero, isn't he? A bit too much for his own good, actually... I'm very glad you liked the last chapter, and thank you very much for all your reviews!  
**Maranwe1** - Don't glare at me! Honestly, if you're not on the list I didn't get the review, I always check everthing twice - and yes, I am insane because of that... I'm very sorry, your review probably got lost in the chaos that is FF.net. *shrugs* Sorry. *nods* Yes, Legolas and Aragorn and Celylith really are doing a few 'super-human feats', or superelven, whichever you prefer. Well, it would be boring if it were differently, and you know what people say: If you're fighting for your life you get awfully motivated and can do amazing things... The whole fic is 449 pages long now, and yes, that's too much. It's a blody novel, for crying out loud! Ending a story with a cliffy - yes, in fact, I have heard of one, or two. HaloGatomon, for example, she is EVIL. LOL, yes, I remember school only too well, and I'm glad my humour is rubbing off on you. There can never be too many sarcastic people... *g*   
**Strider's Girl** - I know! Rub it in, will you!? I know they're awfully long, this on is too long again, but it seems that I can't get them to _shut up_... *seethes* Okay, I'm calm now... *g* Great you liked the little reunion, it was rather hard to write because I didn't want them to 'overreact'. They may be elves, but they're still males, right? Thanks for all your reviews!  
**Nilbrethiliel** - Trish! Hey! Ich dachte schon, auch du seist in der Versenkung verschwunden! *knuddelt* Schoen, dass dem nicht so ist; ich hatte schon angefangen, dich zu vermissen! Und Recht hast du ja, von allem was ich hoere siond Vordiplome nicht gerade 'ne Menge Spass... LOL, Legolas, der mit einem oszillierenden Lächlen durch die Weltgeschichte' kriecht? Ich gebe zu, dieser Vergleich ist mir noch nicht gekommen... *g* Toll, dass dir die Schlacht gefallen hat, das ist naemlich nichts, was ich uebermaessig gerne schreibe - aber wen du's mochtest, dann ist ja gut! Danke fuer die Review!  
**Mouse5** - Well, in fact I update when it's evening/night here, so I posted the last chapter at 2 am. That's day over in Australia or wherever you are? Cool... *g* And you really called your husband and asked him to send the chapter to you? Wow, that's .. obsessed, I guess. *g* But it's very flattering as well... Great you liked the fight - I hate writing torture and fight scenes, really! Thanks a lot for all your kind words and compliments, and for your faithful reviewing! *huggles*  
**XsilicaX** - It's all too long, much too long if you ask me! The whole story is 449 pages long - that's a bloody novel! *evil smirk* Yes, I did the switching from one fight to the other on purpose, and yay, it worked! Cathy hates me now! *g* Your idea about melting the snow is very good, but you're right, they would have needed time for that - which was the one thing they didn't. Oh, and a good plan, that was something they didn't have either... *g* Okay, the 'malicious intend' was like 'safe' and 'save', I always get things like that mixed up, and it's hard to find such tiny mistakes when proof-reading. And the who/that thing really confuses me, to be honest. I _know_ who is for persons and that/which for things, BUT one of my English teachers once said that that could also be used when who could be used, like "the man that's over there' or things like that. So, if you're right - and please tell me - then that person was wrong and everything I learned in 8th grade was wrong. *sighs* Thanks for pointing it out though, and thanks so much for all your wonderful reviews!  
**Leggylover03** - *g* Once again, I don't know how to tell you, but nobody will go anywhere near Rivendell in the sequel, and that is also the reason why Elrond very likely will not be in the next story. BUT they get back to Mirkwood this chapter, so that's something, right? Right? *g*  
**Cestari - **Well, 'soon' is a matter of definition, is it not? I mean, I think end of October is rather soon, hm? *evil grin* Then again, I guess you'll disagree with me... And yes, their father might get rather close to feeding them to balrogs or similarly big and evil things! *g* Great you liked the chappie, thanks for the review!  
**Sirithiliel - **Hmm, that is a very good question ... I guess they put them on their ponies, or they take Aragorn and Co.'s own horses. I mean, I guess they wouldn't let their riders out of their sights in the near future! Oh, and you _will_ see Thranduil's face, believe me. *evil snicker* Oh yes, you will...  
**Imbefaniel** - Climbing over pergolas? Really? I nearly broke my neck falling _off_ one once, it was all rather nasty, lots of blood and all that - head injuries bleed a lot! *shrugs* I deserved it, I guess... You want to add pirates to an elf fic? Uhm, okay, that sounds interesting, to say the least. *g* Hope you're better and didn't have a fever, thanks a lot for al your reviews!  
**Zinnith** - *g* I guess, the worst thing possible is a grandmother who is also a doctor/healer! I mean, that would be positively terrifying! I'm SURE you would LOVE to take care of Aragorn for a while, but since he's mine and MINE alone there's absolutely no way. Plus, I still need him for this chapter, and after that he is going to take a vacation, a very long vacation. To get well again so I can torture him in the next story... *evil grin*  
**Carrie** - Eek, an eye operation? I hope it's not too bad, I'm mortally afraid of hospitals, doctors, medicine and things like that, and an eye operation sound terrible! Great you agree with me on Adruran though, I thought he was too clever to let himself be killed or get captured. And I liked him! *huggles resisting captain* As I said in the A/N, no Elrond or the twins in the next chapter, but a few of them might turn up for the next story. Oh, you're studying for a MA? From what I've heard it's VERY hard work - a friend of mine who's at the LSE in London is thinking about doing it right now, but it's not sure yet because of all the work... Thanks for aöö your reviews, I greatly enjoyed them!  
**Fliewatuet** - Yes, they're alive, far from well, yes, but definitely alive. Even if they just might die after all when their respective fathers get their hands on them... *evil grin* And don't worry about the hugs, I've already hugged them half to death - it's so much fun! *nods* You're right! Adruran is far too clever to die like this, and I liked him too, from the very beginning to be honest. He's not just black and white, he's grey, and that makes the whole thing interesting, right? *g*  
**Shaz1** - It was my pleasure to make you smile by announcing a sequel! *g* Great you liked the last chapter, thanks a lot for the review!  
**Halo** - *watches her whack Geran and Hanar with the inflatable hammer of DOOM* Well, if you're having fun, go on... *g* And yes, if you want to go to Mandos and ask him to keep them there for a while instead of letting them journey on - I'm sure he'll be happy to oblige! Glad you liked the reunion, and I'm STILL waiting for an update! This is getting slightly ridiculous, you know... *evil look*  
**Tapetum Lucidum** - Great you liked the length, this one is about the same length so you should like it too! Great you liked the batte and all, it's always very hard to write, at least for me. Torture and battle scenes are nothing I enjoy... Really! Stop laughing this instant! As mentioned in the A/N, we won't be seeing Elrond's reaction, but we WILL see Thranduil's. That's better than nothing, right? *nods* Right.  
**Firniswin** - *g* 'Sweet in a manly sort of way'? Well, I guess you could say that, and it sounds cute, too... Well, as I said, no, ther sequel won't come out next week, and not in the week after that, sorry, but I do have a RL, sometimes at least... *g* And no, I won't stop writing, not for a bit, anyway. So, at least one other story!  
**Coreinha** - Uhm, I didn't say you were allowed to keep them, I merely said you could have them back after the last chapter. See ... *takes dwarves, Aragorn, Legolas and Celylith out of Cor's pocket* ... I need them for this chapter, and after that they need a little vacation to recuperate so I can torture them in the next story. Deal? *evil grin* That's what I thought...   
**Itheilden** - LOL, I really liked your ideas! I liked the second one better though, sounds a lot more humiliating... *evil grin* Perhaps I'll do something like this, we'll see... *g* I do in fact not enjoy writing torture, not one bit, but the things I do for you guys... *sighs* Okay, great you liked it, and thanks a lot for reviewing!  
**CrazyLOTRfan** - *g* Yes, Geran's indeed dead, deader than dead, actually... Great I managed to make you smile! No cliffies anymore I'm afraid, but you can't have everything, I guess... Thanks a lot for all your wonderful reviews!  
**Nikara** - I can just imagine Freud trying to analyse someone like Sauron or Thranduil... *snickers* I guess Sauron does all the things he does just because he never had a real mother or something like that... Well, it wasn't update on Sunday but update on Monday, that's something too, right? *hangs head* Sorry...  
**Jazmin3 Firewing** - Okaaaayy, then I won't huggle you. It's more of a saying anyway ... you do realise that I can't really huggle you, right? *g* Huh, Geran really WAS unpopular - I never thought you guys hated him that much. But I kinda liked his little invention, just from the professional point of view, of course. I don't like to torture my characters after all, noo... *g*  
**Critternut** - Well, in fact I would LOVE to keep torturing them forever, but I really don't have the time. Unfortunately. *g* Well, I do like the dwarves in fact, I think they're quite elvish, in a way, even if you shouldn't tell them that, I guess... But Legolas' father will find out about this, believe me, oh he will... *evil grin* It wouldn't be half as funny otherwise, right? I hope you're better now and that he room has stopped spinning, and thanks a lot for reviewing anyway!  
**Firnsarnien** - LOL, yes, everyone's hurt, it wouldn't be fair otherwise, right? And don't worry, no-one has noticed that you drool when thinking about elf pain ... what? Oh, I guess I shouldn't have said that... *g* Well, if Celylith would have done even a third of what you proposed, this story would have turned into Slash all of the sudden - and we can't have that, right? No, I don't write Slash, and I never will, Ilúvatar help me... *blushes* Thanks a lot for your very very nice compliments! Great you liked it so much! *huggles*  
**Alex Mistress Squirrel** - *grins smugly* Yes, I am the Queen of Suspense, and everyone must bow before me! On your knees, underlings! *shakes head and pushes alter ego back to the back of her mind* See what you've done? She's cracked now, and it's all your fault! You've given her delusions of grandeur! *g* Great you liked the chapter, thanks a lot for all your reviews!  
**Vampy2k** - Well, yes, I'll admit that Celylith is not very good at looking after the two of them, but you have to cut him some slack, I mean, he was unconscious most of the time! Perhaps he'll be better in the next story ... *thinks about it* .. Nah, I don't think so... *evil grin* Well, as I said, no-one will return to Rivendell in this chapter, and neither will they in the next story, I'm afraid. Sorry about that; and thanks a lot for reviewing!  
**Amelie** - I know. All computers are like that, they're evil and vengeful and EVIL, and did I mention evil? And mine hates me, I'm sure about that... *g* You're a sneaky little thing, going online only when your mother is away - understandable though. When I was still a bit younger my mother was just the same... Still is, to be honest, but since I am grown-up and 4 or 5 inches taller than her, it's not really that bad anymore... *g* You have just given me a rather good idea with your suggestion that Crlylith runs into Adruran in the next story - maybe I'll use it. Thanks! Congrats! That sentence was rather good. Well, there're a few mistakes in it, so it should be "Ich wünschte mir ich könnte Deutsch sprechen, weil ich dann nicht den dummen Übersetzer würde verwenden müssen." It makes perfect sense ans I'm very proud of you, sine German really is a hard language to learn - not like English which is rather easy. Well, thanks a lot for all your reviews! *huggles* Thanks!  
**TigerLily713** - Well, yes, it was rather long, and so is this one. Literally long enough for two chapters, but I don't want to have 27 chapters in the end. 26 is much nicer. Don't tell me, I'm mad, I know... *g* Thanks a lot for all your compliments, and thanks a lot for your faithful reviewing!  
**Zam** - Awww, poor Zam is stressed out, poor baby... *fights in vain to keep a straight face and dissolves into giggles* Mhahahahah! You're stressed and I am not right now, life is good... *evil grin* LOL, your little fight with that man somehow reminded me of Spaceballs, you know, with Lone Starr and Lord Helmet... *giggles* So Lina is confusing poor Celylith? That's evil! Tell her she's an evil little thing for doing that to an innocent, helpless, injured little elfling! And I agree, Nabur is sweet. You know, if you're very nice and friendly next review I just might put him into the next story. Yes, I might... *evil grin* Adruran is indeed cool, that was why I let him live. Cool people survive, boring ones don't - Nili's Theory of Evolution! *g* And yes, you're right, they will go to Erebor, and there will be dwarves, and they will get lectured. You're right, calm down. *huggles Zam* Thank you for all your reviews! They were always the highlight of my day, and I truly hope that you and Celylith will get married and be happy! *short pause* I doubt it though... *g*  
**Carrie5** - LOL, you're right Trish would have loved to give the Kiss of Life to poor ickle Celylith and was rather disappointed I wouldn't let her. But I didn't want to give the lad a heart attack, so.... *g* You want to do what? Found a Kill Nili Foundation? I would think twice before doing that, mate, or I just might lose all interest in writing and you'll NEVER find out who that Evil Dude is... *threatening, evil look* It takes you 'a little longer' to post? A LITTLE? You call that LITTLE? *seethes* Little, I'll show you... *mumbles under her breath* And I don't know why the chapters are so long either, this one's about 30 pages long! That's insane! *sobs* It's horrible, I can't make them shut up... Okay, I hope your exam goes well, and POST! Update! Whatever you want to call it, just do it! *glares*  
**Aurienia** - You! Squeeee! *latches onto her and huggles her* I missed you! I thought I had written something that upset you! But now that I know that it was just your RL I am very glad! *grins broadly* Thank you, btw! I am quite proud of a few of the cliffies myself - I love writing cliffies, did I mention that? *g* And yes, I think Celylith will be in the sequel, but not as much as in this one, I'm afraid. Great you liked the story after all, thanks a lot for reviewing!  
**Lisette** - Aha! A lurker! Great to see you de-lurking, it's always nice to hear what people think of my insane little story! To be honest, I missed the twins and Elrond in this one too, but they really needed to get back to Rivendell. And we will still see Thranduil's paternal reactions, never fear... *evil grin* Thanks a lot for all your compliments, but I have to admit that Legolas is not really my favourite elven character, on my fav elves list the poor boy comes fifth. And you're right, people are always concerned about Legolas' welfare because he is, after all, the heir to the throne. He had millennia to get used to that, but I still think it's quite hard on him, since you never know if people are concerned about you or about the Prince of Mirkwood. I imagine it's like someone falling in love who's very rich, you can never be sure if you're loved because of who you are or because of your money... *re-reads sentence* Ookaaaayyy, just ignore me, will you... Also great to hear that you agree with me on letting Adruran live, I kinda like him, and he was to smart to get killed like that. Thanks a lot for letting me know what you think, it really helps!  
**NaughtyNat** - Yes, the twins will be in the sequel, though not as much as in "An Eye For An Eye", I'm afraid. But they will be there, as will Glorfindel, I think. You did what? Expect Hanar to stick out his tongue? *gives her odd look* Riiiiiight... Great to hear that you liked the fight and everything, battle scenes are always wuite hard to write - for me, that is. Thanks a lot for all your reviews! *huggles*  
**Marbienl** - Wohoo! You did it! You beat FF.net! Well done! *shakes her hand* Great you're back home safe and sound, and I hope it wasn't too stressful... *sighs* Rashwe isn't a coward, he's a plot device, and therefore has to do what I tell him. I couldn't have him save our heroes too soon, now could I? LOL, now that you mention it, I guess that Estel really looked like a traffic light when Geran brought him back to the camp.. *giggles* Rather interesting idea... And yes, I had planned an infection, but your begging certainly helped, because I made it worse than I originally wanted to. So, in a way, the infection was your fault. *g* *sarcastic* You love ranger pain? Really? Who'd have thought? I would NEVER have GUESSED... Okay, that was enough sarcasm for one sentence... *g* And yes, the head-on-the-wall-thing was your idea, and I think that os another reviewer. I use your suggestions! *g* Hmm, no, Estel's horse doesn't have a horse yet, and I mean, it's not really his either. It's a Mirkwood horse, his should be safely in Imladris. LOL, I can imagine the 'Pirate.' 'Elf.' thing. It would've been rather funny... *snickers* *g* No, Frerin doesn't consider him to be his nephew, and I thought him to be about 100-120 years old, so Strider is quite young compared to that... *huggles Marbienl* Thanks a lot for all your wonderful, LONG reviews! I enjoyed every single one of them!  
**Alexa** - Yeah, I guess it would have been 'easier' to go to Rivendell, but the thing is that it is winter, and all the passes are blocked. I guess you could travel through the Gap of Rohan, but that'd take ages, so Mirkwood is the only place to go. And his bone was set by Aragorn, but they're not quite sure if it was done correctly. And now it would be too late anyway, since you need to set bones a few hours after breaking them, and five or more days later it doesn't really matter anymore. *shrugs* Poor elfling. Great you enjoyed the chapter, I hope you'll like this one as well!  
**Alilacia** - 'Long time no see'? That's all you can say? I waited for days and nights, praying for a sign that you hadn't forgotten me, and what do I get? Nothing! *sobs brokenly* Nothing! *g* No, it's perfectly alright, somtimes RL demands a littel bit attention, especially when you're moving, I've done lots of THAT, too... *g* Yes indeed, the dwarves have come, and Legolas isn't THAT happy about it, no... *evil grin* What kind of an enemy lets people love? *g* A reasonable one, my friend, a reasonable one... *g* And I agree, they WILL have their trouble explaining all this to King Thranduil. Oh, they will... *evil grin*  
**Aron** - I know. FF.net hates me. It doesn't tell people that I've updated, I deletes my reviews, it doesn't let people submit their reviews... *sighs* It's evil, that's what it is.UFI? That's interesting, I think I will become chairman! LOL, Legolas the squirrel-elf-droid? That's good, a very nice idea... And yes, that's what Legoals is: Brave, but incredibly stupid. And I don't think Celylith will ever tell ANYONE he wished he had listened to a dwarf, I don't think he would survive the humilation and teasing. Nope, definitely not. *g* To be honest, I'm not yet sure if I want to kill Adruran at all. He's kinda cool, and I like him. Well, he won't be in this story, so it doesn't matter for a while... Great you liked the little reunion, it was very hard to write. I didn't want to overdo it, since they're males after all, and I have yet to meet a male (who is not gay, but that's another story) who shows lots and lots of emotions and liked to talk about his feelings. *shakes head* Men. Thank you for all your wonderful, long and funny reviews! I enjoyed all of them very much!  
**Eva27** - Oh, you have to move? I'm really sorry about that, not only because I'm going to lose your wonderful reviews, but also because I know how much fun that can be. I mean, it is fun when you're moving and staying in the same city, but moving to a whole new city isn't that much fun, I've been through that once or twice myself. I'm glad you enjoyed my weird little story though, and I promise I won't hurt them too much. *crosses fingers behind her back* Okay? I wish you the best of luck and hope you find new friends and everything soon, and thank you very much for your reviews!  
**Seveawen - ***huggles* I am very, very sorry to hear about your friend. I don't really know what to say, so I guess shutting up would be best. It's very sweet of you to review though, thank you very much. Once again, I am truly sorry.  
**Reginabean** - The Whack-a-Nili-machine? Oh, I was soooo hoping you had forgotten about that abominable thing... *sighs* I know what you mean, RL can be most annoying sometimes, and it comes for you when you least expect it. *shrugs* I try to ignore it, but it doesn't really work... *g* Okay, I hope you won't be needing the machine for this chapter; thanks a lot for all your reviews! *huggles* Thanks!  
  
**Well, you know what I'm about to say but I'll still say it again. Thank you very, very much for all your reviews, I enjoyed every single one of them and the really helped me a lot. Thanks! **  
  
  



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